written 5/8/2023

recently have come to the conclusion that having hobbies is difficult. i have tried many, many times

written 10/2/2023

well. i have no idea what was supposed to be written there. it is several months later, and i have changed much since then. you could say that we suffer from an overabundance of hobbies, switching beack and forth between craft without ever really being able to take in information. maybe my brain works too slowly for the body we share. lately, crochet has been attempted and promptly discarded. scrapbooking, papercrafts, beadwork. it is too early to say whether anything will stick, but i enjoy the meditative nature of small, detail oriented projects. not as much as i enjoy doing nothing, but i rarely have a say in what takes up my time.

This is unrelated, but i do not really know what a journal is supposed to comprise of. are thoughts and feelings enough, is one supposed to have a message or theme? how does one ensure their audience, or if they want an audience at all? I like to pretend i am speaking out into the ether, the text being absorbed into a larger World Wide Web. if these words catch someone's eye, who is reading? why? does any of this make sense to them, or am i but another faceless voice spouting nonsense? who am i to those lacking context for the meat that comprises my form? it almost gives me a thrill, having the ability yet again to be confusing and nonsensical, but at the same time, it feels like a lie. i am neither a human or a person, yet how else would i be making an impression in such a tactile form if not by having fingers and flesh? a brain to compute with, and eyes to see? am i real? will you ever know?

this has nothing to do with hobbies, you might say. yes, i agree. getting back to the point. people watching, ive realized, is a favorite hobby of mine. seeing humans out in public, or in private, doing all their human-y things like tripping over nothing and then looking around, worried someone saw. or sharing a knowing look with another human stranger, or eating food. recently, i was taken to a music concert. the building was cold inside and it was full of people, all talking to each other. when the music started the lights dimmed, and the artists name blinked across a large lightboard above the stage. there was 3 human men on stage, dressed in casual wear- t-shirt and tennis shoes. the music was full of chippy, electronic bits and bytes, and the general tone was hopeful and loving. i quite enjoy hopeful music, there were so many people with expressions of enui, bitersweet and powerful, singing loudly along with lyrics about dinosaurs and retail jobs. finding joy in the mundane is an amazing music genre to experience the feeling of togetherness, to almost feel apart of whatever these people were living through. live music has a powerful effect on the human body. there is a sociological concept called "collective effervescence" which i am particulary interested in that can be found in religious settings and live music events, where "a community or society may at times come together and simultaneously communicate the same thought and participate in the same action". isnt that neat?

i do not know how else to end this entry, but i have run out of things to write about. farewell.