...poetically, man dwells...

Three hours of the remaining, precious time left in my summer vacation (which in all honesty does not qualify as a typical, college summer considering I work to support myself and don't have the luxury of relaxing with a ten hour per week b.s. job at the pool and taking the rent's car out to hang with my old high school friends). . . .That sounds a lot more acrid than I intend....[return to initial sentence] I spent studying for the GRE, which is now two weeks and one day away from rearing it's hideous and destructive head. Though I fully understand the importance of preparing myself for the destruction to come, I'm over the whole process. Which will eventually end in my not even going to Grad school, to continue to teach myself through various readings and projects of the intricacies of Heidegger's philosophy on language and how his perspective pervades everyday aspects of our lives...like pregnant silences and allusional goodbyes.

We are encompassed in the four-fold. We are mortals, dwelling on earth, only knowing one measurement-the heavens. But in this ever-present dilemma we find ourselves entirely capable of (as Altussier would later argue) being aware of the systems that shape us, that we subscribe to, and using that as a powerful tool to combat our incapabilities. So for Heidegger, we must take our constant and everyday struggle with language as an accepted struggle and use that knowledge to further our creative endeavors.

I've never been musically inclined. I have a rather deep voice and haven't been able to control it. Also, I had too many people in my younger life who let me know I was tone deaf. I have no idea, which probably supports the latter accusation. However, I've always embodied a passion for music, mostly live performances because they're such beautiful representations of individual's creative and poetic endeavors. Starting with my obsession with Dylan's character in his lyrics and voice and continuing into my love of caring for those surrounded by me, whom will sit on the stoop next to me and improvise randomly, I've developed as a critical thinker in my acknowledgement of the poetics that Heidegger wrote about in one of my favorite essay's of his "...Poetically, Man Dwells..."

Like Oedipus, when he discovered his murderous encounter with his unknown father and his ensuing marriage to his mother found himself no longer the master of rhetoric he once knew; but instead, mumbled unrecognizable words to those in his presence, we too owe ourselves to language. Instead of pompously demanding control over language, we must know it is our responsibility to hearken after language, to take the time and care to listen to what language has to say to us.

In the same way that we are responsible to listen to this more powerful entity that is commonly known as language, we must also care for and listen to those around us. I think it is exactly because of this last concept that I am so taken by Heidegger's philosophy. I have and must always live my live caring for those I love. Considering I wear my heart on my sleeve, I have to be selective.

Christine and I went to the bottle on Monday night to visit Bruce and hang out for a bit. We began talking about life perspectives and I realized that because of the way I choose to live my life I am hurt more often. But I'm alright acknowledging the fact that I'm willing to be vulnerable in order to let my closest friends know that I'll be there, regardless.

Why I'm writing, I can't tell you. Last night I realized Rainbow was dangerous, until I understood, just now, how four-man street beer is worse. Regardless, I'm perfectly content being involved with Martin Heidegger and knowing I have some of the greatest friends in Chicago. Much love to the Ciarleglio family, the Jupiter Outpost co-workers, and the Ottoman Imperials.