20th March 1995 293lbs

Just been to register at the local Temp Agency, should really think about getting some work, I have hardly any money left now and I really don't want to sign on if I can help it.

If all my cells all carry all the information needed to make a me, does that mean they contain all the experiences I can have actually or potentially? Do all my cells contain all my life, experiences, emotion? Does that make time run backwards? It feels like it does.

And, if all my cells are reducible to bits so small that they are no longer bits, but now places on a wave, movements of something, memories of something, potentials for something, is that why music 'strikes a chord within us', why 'we're on the same wavelength'? Ripples in the same one big wave that we all are really. Do those points activate, resemble, amplify, join in with the wave bits that are us, that is me? Is that what emotion is? Music? Movement? Music and movement. Didn't they teach that to us in primary school?


Education - pulling out. So do I already know everything? I just haven't remembered it yet. Can there be an everything? Wouldn't it keep moving outwards in concentric circles as the knowledge and self-awareness and point of view of the observer of the rest of it had to be taken into account to make up everything.


Why are we drawn to some things and not others? Is it all psychological? But then that would become all physical anyway. Were the bits that make up one thing or person and the bits that make up me once bits combined to make up something else and we're being drawn back together by our common ancestry our memory of each others bits?

What makes something irresistible? Why do we go off things? Are 'we' 'inhabiting' a 'space' 'in' a 'place', like a jelly mould? We don't exist as us but are filling the us shaped hole. We're held in place, held together, by everything else in its place. Nothing moves but the essences that flow through the mold. Why do I hate nuts so much? Or is it that they hate me? They're allergic to me and want to escape me? I'm very suspicious of salted peanuts. Have to keep an eye on them all the time. Sneaky bastards.


If all my cells have all the information about me in them, do all my experiences contain all the experiences I can have? No, that's not quite right. I almost had it. I thought about this on the way back from the swimming pool and I knew I'd forget it. When I was swimming it made perfect sense.
If swimming a length is the same as my whole life - A to B = effort, joy, difficulty, constant breathing, motivation, energy, skill. No it's gone, forget that for a while.


Hm, if we are souls living in jelly molds, experience is a by-product of existence, not existence itself. It's all just telephone message but we think we are telephone because that's how we exist.

What has this got to do with losing weight, I wonder? It needs to come out, I guess. That's what I promised myself. Write it all down, anything that wants to come out. No matter how silly or vain or pretentious or painful. It's just a jumble. But if this is what it has to be like to lose all this extra fat attached to my spirit, oh I meant body but spirit came out. So I'll leave it all in then.


Does it help you at all? I don't know if I'm talking to myself or a you (now as I'm writing this). Does anyone lose fat weight without losing the heavy thoughts first?

Were the Renaissance and the Enlightenment the same thing? Or at different times? Or different things at the same time? That's how I feel this year. I used to be annoyed that when I invented something, for example the turbine engine, that someone else had got there first. But now it seems as though the joy of it is not in being first or recognised, not a people social thing, but an emotional intellectual spiritual thing, of going through the process of creating and working out and being inspired.


I sometimes, regularly wonder how I would react if something disobeyed a law of nature. If I was driving along and the car in front of me disappeared before my eyes. Would I speed up into the empty space, or stop or swerve? I put my keys on top of an orange flannel in the bathroom the other day, but in a flash, snatched them back up again to stop them from falling out of existence. Crazy lady, it's not the orange ones that are the problem. It's the red ones.


When I'm alone I sometimes have the feeling that I'll look up or turn around and there'll be someone there. I wish there was someone there, I'm expecting at some stage for there to be "someone" there for me. Someone from home. Wherever home is. Do people from different cultures experience madness in cultural terms? Like heaven has a green garden and a white picket fence - actually it has a black and white tiled floor and white wrought iron tables, but that's neither here nor there - for some countries and a red dusty yard for others. So it's not an actual place, but an idea, an expression of something.

If there are aliens, as the radio keeps telling us today, I hope they keep to themselves for a while I'm enjoying all this shit and I don't want any disturbances from this journey discovery thing.
I know I should get off my fat arse and do something but it feels as though things are under control at the moment. I don't seem to have a problem with food at the moment. I eat what I want when I want it and I seem to want fruit and veg and salad all the time. I'm losing weight. My periods have started again after two years of no periods. You know when you're late and you don't want to be pregnant and you swear that you'll never ever complain ever again if only you could have a period? That was me last month 'Oh thank you, thank you, bleed, hurt, be spotty and crabby, oh the pain, oh the blood, oh the joy'.

I've got a small, clean flat to myself, I'm up-to-date with my studies (am doing 2 years of study in one year this year to speed things up a bit). I'm getting on with people. I don't want to be in a relationship again so soon after. So, apart from getting a job, and the agency now knows I am here, I'm pretty much in control and happy and peaceful with my swimming and writing and the sky and my bed. Am taking time out to get better and it's working.

Cue a 1000 catastrophes on my head. I wish I wouldn't do that, expect retribution for happiness. I do it a lot. But for fuck's sake I can't not be happy just in case I tempt fate.

I'm getting bored now, that must be a good sign?