My high school physics teacher, Mr. Cook, was very ardent about specifying how there was only acceleration but no such thing as “deceleration”–we only accelerate in other ways. In case it wasn’t already evident, I am making an analogy to attachment, and how generally, detachment is not real but really just the old ones being bumped out by new attachments, ready or not. Brain only has so much space, heart only has so much capacity to feel at a time. And in some aspects, I mean, thank god! But in others, well, especially when all there is is good, how sad it is to see things get bumped.

“Aligarh”, Arvind Krishna Mehrotra

I really like this poem and it’s rather topical. But I guess, I wasn’t really thinking about that at the time. I think about how I’ve had varying degrees of attachment to Rachel over the past three years, and really, there has been no real detachment save attachment to new people. Concretely, not that anything is ever a clean cut, I don’t think I shall ever send her another poem, at least not for quite some time. Anyhow,,, nothing but ambivalence.

I spent most of this day with Eve in NYC, so that was fun but I guess not as much time to browse poetry. There also isn’t really anything poetry-wise for tomorrow, the last of July, which is a shame, but I refuse to fill it for nothing other than the sake of filling it, which is to say, to force it. Instead, I think I shall recycle today’s and stick some different thoughts on attachment to it because it really was a very stimulating day altogether. Read about that more tomorrow.

I watch this science youtuber named Allen Pan on Snapchat now and then. He is rather attached to science and making things and anime and all these nice childhood things. What am I attached to from childhood, from anything?

I don’t think I attached to much of anything throughout most of my childhood. Attached to detachment (sorry). Detachment as word for an absence of attachments, because once attachments become present, I don’t think one ever can really let go of them without their place being filled with something else. Nobody goes from attachments to none, we just hold the same ones even though the things are no longer present in our lives and continue to mourn or process in whatever ways we know how. Pine. My first attachings were people I loved and lost, thinking Matthew, Tanner, Rachel, and so on. Maybe books. Never science or math much. That was a part of the detachment, of the program my father had designed for us. Here I am now. This is not to say that I don’t enjoy science and math, and I think I’ve developed a somewhat healthy attachment to them, but not as strong as it would’ve been had I been allowed it from a young age.

These days. I am still not super super attached to science or math, though again, enjoy them. I am rather attached to reading and writing. Attached in particular to feelings, to mining my heart out, understanding self and others and human condition. When one cannot attach to anything else, perhaps to self is default. Again, no, still, perhaps, an attachment to detachment. An attachment to nothing at all, because a self is little without attachments. Which should be a contradiction. Is. Question mark question mark? For shame.