i find myself wasting time on this blog. i find that there is no reason to feel that there is some degree of dependence toward it, that there is something in it in which i find comfort; i think there is always too much to do and too little time and i am here, plastering myself on the internet instead of actually doing anything. i find that there is no sense in my repentance, no value in the guilt i feel for wasting my time, and still, i can't get over the feeling that there are things which are more important at this time than my being with myself in this binary coded journal. I should be writing about how GÃ¶del's theorem cannot lead to think anything about the workings of the human mind, or how it is somehow true that there are no strict laws that connect mental events with physical events, or writing about how funtionalist theories lack the power to convince me that there is no possibility to reduce the mental to the neurological, or to try and understand the axiomatic scheme of ZF, or to finish Spinoza's Ethic, or to study japanese, or eat, sleep, draw, play my forgotten clarinet, or so many other things that seem to be at least more productive than this monologuing. i need to rest but there's no time, this semester will NEVER be over in time... "i want to be big and let go".... ahhh, so many compromising assertions have been made here, so many chances to prove myself wrong are being wasted by the second... ahhh.... my brain is gone.... "where is my mind?"