Chimbley Sweep
Ugh I need to be not here any more.
I had this horrible anxiety dream this morning that my Dad and Signe changed when we were going to China to be tomorrow and never told me. They had told my cousin Emma who's coming as well, but not me, and didn't really care when I told them I couldn't come.
I don't feel like I have the right mixture of things in my life. I'm volunteering and working and learning, but I don't like the place I work at, and the things I'm studying won't have much benefit for my life after these next two months. My days are busy in the early morning and late night, and I feel like a piece of taffy pulled in two directions, thinning out in the middle.
Although, when I write in this journal it always reminds me how much I love reading Greek. Participles and finite verbs with slightly different meanings all doubled throughout sentences (emphasizing or subtly differentiating meaning?) I don't even remember how to write in proper English sometimes. Oh, the structure of Greek prose sentences. Complex intertwined trees of intentionally (?) vague grammar, in which the answer is too often "take everything with everything". The words twist on the page to form a level of information that is glossed over by languages that depend on more rigid syntactical systems, and then add to that often ambiguous morphology. Gorgeous, complex, magical, impossible.
And now I sleep. Again.
I had this horrible anxiety dream this morning that my Dad and Signe changed when we were going to China to be tomorrow and never told me. They had told my cousin Emma who's coming as well, but not me, and didn't really care when I told them I couldn't come.
I don't feel like I have the right mixture of things in my life. I'm volunteering and working and learning, but I don't like the place I work at, and the things I'm studying won't have much benefit for my life after these next two months. My days are busy in the early morning and late night, and I feel like a piece of taffy pulled in two directions, thinning out in the middle.
Although, when I write in this journal it always reminds me how much I love reading Greek. Participles and finite verbs with slightly different meanings all doubled throughout sentences (emphasizing or subtly differentiating meaning?) I don't even remember how to write in proper English sometimes. Oh, the structure of Greek prose sentences. Complex intertwined trees of intentionally (?) vague grammar, in which the answer is too often "take everything with everything". The words twist on the page to form a level of information that is glossed over by languages that depend on more rigid syntactical systems, and then add to that often ambiguous morphology. Gorgeous, complex, magical, impossible.
And now I sleep. Again.