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Monday, November 21, 2022

Why is the act of organizing such a visceral thing, and why is it so hard to cull it out of another?

Looking within, I see disorganization. It is a constant push to grow into an organized individual. Is it natural to be organized? I wonder if we set things and not set things in physical space in a way that would not normally be able to be replicated. When we look outward for guidance, around us, observing the localized world metaphysics, does it vibe? When we get what we want, does it even work for the better? Is it better to get used to the wildness of object abundance? Like if it's a landscape I traverse, and the topology of it is textured with the outlines of childhood toys, clothes, adornments, chochkes, books, bikes and skateboards, random aquatic gear. Is the foreign clutter more liveable or is neither of great importance. Sometimes I can't think straight when there's way too much clutter. when the clutter is gone, it feels foreign, boreign so to speak. 

The gaze of the Other really pushes me to feel like order is necessary. The "Don't look at me differently because of where I live/eat/sleep."

It physically makes me ill. So how can it not? Is there a way out of the gaze, the style/order?