In a Lonely Place on 08-06-2019

But being a Hollywood agent brought Riggs no relief. He filled his days with meetings, performing agent-like activities. But life was still elsewhere. He was still elsewhere, like a displaced shadow, like the mini-Riggs within him now released, in death, to haunt from the curtains beside him. He is (they are) there, and I am here, so the book I am reading by Jenny Odell is in our world: “What’s especially tragic about a mind that imagines itself as something separate, defensible, and capable of ‘efficiency’ is not just that it results in a probably very boring (and bored) person; it’s that it’s based on a complete fallacy about the constitution of the self as something separate from others and from the world. Although I can understand it as the logical outcome of a very human craving for stability and categories, I also see this desire as, ironically, the intersection of many forces inside and outside this imagined ‘self’: fear of change, capitalist ideas of time and value, and an inability to accept mortality.”