Just spent some time repairing household implement, enjoy fixing things, sometimes a bit too much.

People's love of things constantly interferes with their ability to love other people properly, I don't mean commodities, especially, all sorts of things, abstract things (commodities being one sort), processes, patterns, whatever. Have felt so overtaken by my own turns of mind and preoccupations lately, they've kept me from being how others would like, they're the only reason I am at all, so much is occluded and obscure, it's a bit maddening. Feel like I'm failing someone very badly, useless.

At least I'm not in love with suffering, just with someone else who is, still not so great. World is plenty dark already without shrouding ourselves in our own dark vapors, that's how I feel about it. Others, well, others feel differently.

Still haven't gotten to that Walser book, drat.