checking in
Well, I'm stuck at home with a nasty cold, and I've watched all the movies I can take for a weekend. Bleah. Things are getting really weird around here. Housemate alcoholic behavior nastiness. I'd rather be somewhere else.
So I guess we may be moving, when we can.
Things are moving apace at school. Actually, it's a pretty scary pace. I've yet to get that internship lined up, and the end of the quarter is approaching like a runaway train. Why is it that when you're ill and weak you suddenly notice just how much you don't have your shit together and what a mess your life is?
I don't really have the energy to write out the things I'd like to, things I've been reflecting on in the midst of life: how ultimately we are each alone with our gods and what that means; how loving someone isn't enough and what a terrible truth that is; what a true warrior ethic would look like.
"Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing
compared to love in dreams."
F. Dostoevsky
Dreams are simple. Life is gritty, bloody, gut-twisting. The reward for living in the real world is a wind at your back and power in your hands. And lines in your face, sorrow in your heart. You become more human. You are sculpted by what you give your devotion to. I want the shape that emerges to be the face of truth.
So I guess we may be moving, when we can.
Things are moving apace at school. Actually, it's a pretty scary pace. I've yet to get that internship lined up, and the end of the quarter is approaching like a runaway train. Why is it that when you're ill and weak you suddenly notice just how much you don't have your shit together and what a mess your life is?
I don't really have the energy to write out the things I'd like to, things I've been reflecting on in the midst of life: how ultimately we are each alone with our gods and what that means; how loving someone isn't enough and what a terrible truth that is; what a true warrior ethic would look like.
"Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing
compared to love in dreams."
F. Dostoevsky
Dreams are simple. Life is gritty, bloody, gut-twisting. The reward for living in the real world is a wind at your back and power in your hands. And lines in your face, sorrow in your heart. You become more human. You are sculpted by what you give your devotion to. I want the shape that emerges to be the face of truth.