I was on the bus yesterday afternoon - the route which passes by the schools I "taught" at - and I saw a few familiar faces. Overhearing them being addressed by their friends only confirmed that I had known these people before. Fortunately, it's been more than a year and kids don't remember briefly-seen visages for very long. But that doesn't mean ( Read more... )

I can't tell if I'm just being superglue-clingy to the only person who is nearly always available to listen to me, or if it's more than that. He knows my conditions, but really, those are the products of thinking, and when it comes down to it, it's hard for reason to overcome the heart ( Read more... )

Like my old friend Nick, I have far too many essay/post ideas floating about in my head and not enough motivation or imperative to write them. (I suspect that he at least keeps a pile of drafts lying around, though. I don't.) I need to focus. I also need to write; there's a cathartic effect releasing these thoughts into text so I don't have to ( Read more... )

Idling about despite having things to do isn't necessarily laziness. Sometimes it's a mental paralysis. Sometimes it's mental overload...I know it all too well. So many existential thoughts...I think it's why I still possess motivation to complete a task once I've started it and can complete it in one go. But otherwise frozen in terror and fear, ( Read more... )

I cleaned out a bunch of the cardboard boxes that the former roommates left in the storage room. Took a bag of styrofoam out to the garbage, and a couple of boxfuls of recycling. There's still stuff in the storage room I don't know to whom it belongs, and some shoeboxes that would be handy for my own shoes ( Read more... )

...but I suppose that if there is one thing (and there is) that I arguably spend too much time and money on, to little result, it'd be my board games. The similarities to what prompted the Sundering (role-playing games) are striking -- stuff which provides a lot of busywork through artistic customization, lots of bits or dice or cards to play with ( Read more... )

Because it's 2010, I recall some people writing up synopses of "the last ten years of my life" around New Years'. There's no way I could sum up ten years in a blog post, but I've thinking about the past decade for a different reason ( Read more... )

Two empty bedrooms (+ one other occupied but gone for vacation), empty cupboards in the kitchen, an empty, dark living room...

...nobody to slam doors shut or leave lights on or have friends over until late or have annoying ringtones on phones and never pick them up or not sort the recycling. Isn't that just great?

The tortured soul lets slip its secret -- that it has not found its life's purpose. It drifts from aim to aim, searching but not finding. By the time the mind reaches a destination, thoughts have already moved on.

If one were to say that I haven't "grown up" "acceptably" despite what I've been through, I look through the glass of memory and doubt that I would have "grown up" "acceptably" even if the Sundering had never happened. I fail to see how complacency would have made my adolescence more "normal" on some arbitrary scale ( Read more... )