Too Many Thoughts Too Much Paper

July 8, 2006
I am powerful, an expert, authoritative.
(I know nothing. I am in the middle of a sea of isness and I have no clue, where am I heading, what am I making, why?
Why do humans hurt each other. I must answer that? Am I lost because my Mother, pobrecita, could't stop herself from hurting me? Who hurt her?)

I'm in the middle. Am I in the middle because I'm stupid? Because of oppression? Because of battering?

I know nothing. I can't find the thread of my own thoughts.
So I'm trying to write this artifact and I can't decide between wanting to know what it is, the efforts toward wanting to know what it is, and being inside it letting what it is flow through me, emerge from me.

So I'm lost in this sea, floating on it, treading water, desperately keeping myhead above water. Or I'm underwater.

When I was in my early 20s first figuring out my life in New York, I couldn't bear the alienation, the terror, the morning nausea, the loneliness, the disembodiedness, the insubstantiality of the air. So I pretended the air was water. I imagined that the subway platforms and passages were coral jungles. It was the only way I could drag myself from the spaces of my life then. My apartment on Prince Street. My job at the day care center.

But where has my mind gone now? How do I find its thread, what its wanting to know, what its wanting to tell me?

What am I trying to do with the PE?
An experience of one person's wage slavery. The story of how she makes meaning from this. How liberation is the only redemption. Liberation internally. Liberation with others. Wage slavery is about experiencing herself utterly alone. Liberation is about understanding, experiencing it can only be all together.

The domains are always there. But awareness of them promises agency, the very act of awareness is the beginning of taking charge.
I want to show how Marina finds liberation.