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The Existentialist Craves Nonbeing: Apathy, Dread, Self-Hatred, and Philosophical Pessimism
The Existentialist Craves Nonbeing: Apathy, Dread, Self-Hatred, and Philosophical Pessimism
The Existentialist Craves Nonbeing: Apathy, Dread, Self-Hatred, and Philosophical Pessimism
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The Existentialist Craves Nonbeing: Apathy, Dread, Self-Hatred, and Philosophical Pessimism

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The Existentialist Craves Nonbeing is volume three of the series On Being

LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 28, 2020
ISBN9781957210124
The Existentialist Craves Nonbeing: Apathy, Dread, Self-Hatred, and Philosophical Pessimism
Author

J. Guzmán

J. Guzmán was born on January 14th, 1991, at 8:42 a.m., in Lewiston, Idaho, USA. She is the creator of On Being, a self-referential, metaphysical, diary case history where she psychoanalyzes her consciousness throughout Time, uses tools like astrology to facilitate the investigation, and documents the entire process. J is building a life-long, narrative, archival data set of her life for astrologers and other researchers to use to show exactly how their respective theories, methods, techniques, and practices function. J. is the ultimate research test subject.

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    The Existentialist Craves Nonbeing - J. Guzmán

    The Existentialist Craves Nonbeing

    THE EXISTENTIALIST CRAVES NONBEING

    Apathy, Dread, Self-hatred, and Philosophical Pessimism

    ON BEING

    BOOK III

    J. GUZMÁN

    Loner Girl Press

    Copyright © 2020 by J. Guzmán and Loner Girl Press

    All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

    For permissions and collaborations contact: j@jguzman.space

    You can connect with J. on Instagram @jguzmanwriter, or visit her website https://jguzman.space

    Sign up for J.’s newsletter called Nothing I Say is True: Open Letters to Void at her website under the Correspondence tab! There you can read her ongoing musings about life, the universe, and whatever the fuck.

    Although the following narrative is of events that actually occurred, the story itself is only subjective truth. All books in the series On Being are J. Guzmán’s personal experience, interpretation, opinions, and feelings, not the Objective Truth of Absolute Reality. Her aim is not defamation and she understands that every character has their own subjective truth regarding events that occurred, and that others’ perspectives could prove contradictory to her own. Characters’ names have been changed to protect their privacy and reputation.

    to the Master of my nativity

    I admit I am powerless to you.

    How can I appease you, my Lord?

    for astrological purposes

    Ana

    14 January 1991

    8:42 a.m.

    Lewiston, Idaho, USA

    The Existentialist Craves Nonbeing

    (eBook version)

    28 August 2020

    8:02 a.m.

    Meridian, Idaho, USA

    the existentialist craves nonbeing

    APATHY, DREAD, SELF-HATRED, AND PHILOSOPHICAL PESSIMISM

    02 September 2010

    I went to the Seattle Art Museum today with Mila and Eugenia. I got to see Kurt Cobain one last time because the exhibit is still up. I thought the last time would be before summer, but I was wrong. Delighted!

    I can’t believe I’m here. I never want to go back to Boise, I can’t do it. I need to live here somehow. I will if it’s the last thing I do.

    I want to know where Kurt and Courtney met, and I want to go to all the places that all the interesting people go to. I feel like there’s some secret place where everything happens, and I don’t know about it. Like everyone’s part of some exclusive and exciting club and I’m left out.

    Being in Seattle helps a lot, but I still get this strange feeling that I’m missing something crucial, and I’m always going to search for it. I hate it and I love it and it’s everything I am.

    03 September 2010

    Listening to the new Arcade Fire album, The Suburbs. I like Modern Man. Drinking coffee. Going to Hawaii tomorrow for soccer!

    05 September 2010

    We flew to Hawaii yesterday. I sat between my parents on the plane. They are coming to watch us play and also to have a mini vacation.

    I finished reading 1984 and started The Tao of Pooh. Iʼm trying to really feel each moment that Iʼm in. Itʼs hard.

    We swam in the ocean yesterday. It’s within walking distance of our hotel. We also went to the market and I bought bracelets to give to my friends. Today we had practice and went to the beach. It’s real hot. I’m icing my ankle right now on our balcony. Breezy.

    There was this sexy guy at the beach with long hair and my teammates started talking to him about me so I ran away. Swam away, actually. So touristy here, kinda annoying. We are going to dinner soon.

    There are so many things in the world, so many tiny things I’ll never see. Like cigarette butts in dark alleys and the bottom of the ocean. It’s hard to concentrate on writing when I should be looking at everything. It’s amazing how magical our natural world is, but we’re so trapped by concrete to notice its intense beauty. There are heavy clouds resting on the mountaintops to the left of our balcony. Light gray darkens into deep blue. Mysterious.

    I imagine I’m sitting in the shrouded wetness, an explorer, a sojourner of secrets. The whole relationship between the night, the clouds, and the mountains is so sublime. I can’t express how I feel and I have this urge to scream and cry because of my inadequate vocabulary. My incompetence astounds me. You have six different ways you can experience this profound experiment. Take advantage of it. Be your senses.

    06 September 2010

    We won today, I did not have fun. I felt like the entire time I was following one girl around trying to defend her and never getting the ball or doing anything. It sucks. But that’s what Chadwick wants me to do in the midfield: focus on someone else instead of trying to be a playmaker and actually helping my teammates. I also had a breakaway and kicked it right at the keeper.

    Cameron played so fucking well. I’m eternally jealous of her. She is seriously the most perfect person ever; she is good at everything. I wish I were her. And since I can’t be her I’ll just be in love with her. And watch how she does things and secretly copy her. And stare at her with a straight face, trying to look serious and not smile because that may give away how much I idolize her.

    She’ll never know how I honestly think she is the coolest person ever. I don’t just say that because it’s true in a certain moment. I say it because it’s always real and it’s how I feel when I’m serious. Maybe I’m glad she doesn’t know for sure because I can pretend we’re good friends and we know things about each other even when we don’t. I can act like she thinks I’m interesting and we’ve had deep conversations about life and she values me as a person even if I’m useless.

    I’m drinking coffee in our room. Itʼs around 10:15 p.m.

    Mila and I walked to the beach today and read and talked and sat in the sun. It was nice. How quickly Hawaii will be in the past, lost in memories insignificant but for those moments where I long for things that will never be mine, and loathe the futility of disliking myself in the present.

    We are always existing, we are never not, so it gets old and we forget how insane it all is. We forget how intensely gorgeous every action, thought, feeling, moment is. Even me lying here writing this wispy mind-trail down in black ink is more complicated than I can be aware of. Ever. It’s important and private and genuine and dumb.

    I hate when people make statements about other people in the form of factual expressions. Because who are you to say how another person is? You don’t know the inside of her mind, how she operates, her rationality. You cannot say how a person is because no one is constant. We are in flux, morphing relevant ideas into blasphemous heresies from one day to the next. Nothing, nobody, is something. We are all everything, yet nothing.

    Now I’m talking in vague generalities. Do you think this is worthy of publication? I don’t.

    I hate when people have expectations of me and I end up disappointing them. It’s the worst and it happens all the time.

    If I’m not beautiful how can anyone love me?

    10 September 2010

    The day before yesterday I only played for ten minutes in the first half of our game. I played better than the first game, though. I hate Chadwick. He doesn’t say what he is thinking, he just takes me out of the game and looks at me condescendingly with those stupid thinly pursed lips, like I made some huge mistake out of something so simple, and yet says nothing. I hate him so much. It’s a secret I like but don’t keep very well.

    Yesterday I went snorkeling with my parents at Hanauma Bay. It was so cool! I saw huge fish and scraped myself on the coral. I bought two postcards and some fake tats at the gift shop via Mom’s debit card. We went to another beach, too, with turquoise water and sand so fine it was like liquid. Not too many people either. So much better than Waikiki. We went out to lunch and to various lookouts. I took a bunch of pictures.

    Our team went to a Luau last night: food and dancing, hilarious. We made our assistant coach go up and dance, he wore a coconut bra and no shirt. Funniest thing ever! I bought our team pic for ten dollars. Practice today was short but I did awful. Felt sluggish and bloated.

    I wonder if I will keep thinking of a million more things to say in my life. I wonder if I’ll wonder about anything new, sense a different mysterious than the usual pondering. I think that’s kind of interesting. I want to grow my hair out. I am, it’s getting longer. When it’s long I’ll be the same person. Will I be happier? Will I change? It might as well be long right now because I’ll probably have the same mindset as I do now.

    13 September 2010

    I am so satisfied right now. BEST FEELING EVER. Everything is perfect. The atmosphere I occupy consists of: an unpacked and organized dorm room, alone, warm, dim lights, tea, iPod on shuffle, freshly showered body, everything in the right place, excitement! I think this year is going to be fucking great. My room is really spacious compared to last year. I love how much space I have. Comfort. I can’t wait for Zara to get here so our room can be complete. It’s bare on her side.

    I packed all my shit into Claire’s car and she helped me move into my dorm. It didn’t take long at all. Painless, unlike the confused awkwardness of last year. Since we live on the top floor we parked behind the building because there is a parking lot at the top, so no elevator or stairs with all my crap.

    I also talked to my PA, the girl that kind of manages and looks out for everyone on our floor. It was totally fine, she’s real nice. She is black and has short pixie hair and is pretty.

    We won our last game in Hawaii at the end of double overtime. I assisted Bridgette and she scored but they said it was offside, and a little later Sierra scored and we won.

    15 September 2010

    Downtown. Went to the public library with 40 minutes till closing. Worst decision ever. What a waste of bus fare.

    How do I know which people are real? How do I know which people are creepy and scary? Because there are creepy and scary looking people that are actually real and brilliant. How do I sort those from the shitty ones?

    I’m sitting on the ground at the bus stop. I’ve never sat on the ground downtown anywhere, it’s what the homeless do. I want to do it more often.

    I went to Fremont today and bought The Fountainhead for $3.83. One of the freshmen named Kate bought me a Kurt Cobain poster at Pike’s; she gave it to me at dinner. Sex. Kate is so nice, she is short and blonde and plays defense, and likes good music and is really quiet. I like her.

    I might be the coolest person I know. (What a fucking stupid thing to write.) It’s 11:04 p.m. I’m drinking tea in a red teacup. It’s raining outside. I want to work at a bookstore. I’m tired. Tomorrow we have a game.

    I’m wondering if Seattle’s right. If anywhere is right. How can I know if it’s right if I haven’t seen everything else? It rained today and I liked it. I felt sad a little, like something’s missing, but I liked it. I wonder if I enjoy feeling this way for some reason. I wonder if something will always be missing. My feelings are so obscure. I can never figure myself out.

    I need to do things I’ve never done, occupy spaces in strange positions, say things that can be interpreted in various ways. I always want to have an adventure, but when I actually think about it, I wonder if it would just make me super anxious and afraid of the people that want me to come.

    17 September 2010

    I played really well in our game yesterday. It was like the old me finally returned! Fuckin’ insane. Best I’ve ever played here. I’m scared because Cameron and another midfielder aren’t playing tomorrow so I’m starting at center mid and I’m afraid I’ll fuck it up. Oh well. I’m just going to play and not think. And hope it works out.

    19 September 2010

    Yesterday the game was okay. I was hella tired but it was okay. I didn’t majorly fuck anything up so that was good, and we won 2-0. I got to go home since our game was in Boise. I showered and iced my injuries and ate healthy. I’m glad I got to visit with my parents, too. I’m already back in Seattle. Zara got here yesterday but didn’t move all her stuff in till today.

    I went to the Sunday market in Fremont with a hilarious freshman named Kendra and a few of the junior girls. Kendra plays forward and is super fast. We went to the junior girls’ new house, which they call The Brick because it’s made of brick, and then we visited the junior guys’ house, which is behind my dorm and up the hill a bit, really close. I’m totes going to go over

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