September has coming closely to its end. Lots of things that happened or associated with this unnecessarily troublesome month seemed to also come to its end. To be honest I didn’t find this month quite inspiring. I found myself trapped in a rabbithole that I thought, in the beginning, is quite fun. Now it’s no longer that fun. But in any cases.

I finished reading Allen Ginsburg’s “Kaddish” for the fourth time. As always, his words are instilled with magic that somehow makes English sound less like English. Did he speak Hebrew? I suppose he did, only that could explain the curious mix of sacredness and degeneration. Paul Celan writes in a similar way. In times of stress and turbulence, they, with the Russians, always give me a weird sense of calm.

Speaking of the Russians, I haven’t progressed a bit in other Dostoevsky books. When Paris Review writes that Dostoevsky is for summer, I should have taken notice. Summer was a better time than the present, in which time seemed to be infinitely prolonged, and sufferings also cruelly maximized. My 23 units are driving me to the edge of insanity, or at least constant headaches. I had a dream of falling down a cliff. The second I jumped off was scary, but in falling lies relief. Only if I could look into the downward spiral in multiple spheres of my life and find me… but alas, that self is long gone.

I question loyalty.  “Habe Mut, dein eigenes Verstandes zu bedlinen!” It’s easier to say than done. Adorno says that we were not born with Rationality and that was Kant’s biggest pitfall. I raised them in a conversation to ask for help. But it’s hard to receive help if it’s even harder to describe the issue. My 22th birthday is coming close, and I realize, that day must be spent with me, only me. I needed time to check with myself. What to do when choices do not align with results? I am for Kant, and rationality should still exist in me.

Sometimes when I look into the mirror I couldn’t recognize myself. I became half; I was degraded. I. Vielleicht suche ich Zustimmung des Selbst.

Man hat nur Angst, wenn man mit sich selber nicht einig ist.

– Hermann Hesse, Demian

Genau. That’s what I should be doing.