(Okay, so spam warning should really have been in this journal, it seems ... anyone want me to move them to my writing journal instead and just post cut-and-pasteable links in Talechasing for the round-up
( Read more... )
[puzzled] I missed Schiri and Nuan joining the army...sleeping on the ground in that sort of cold makes you wake up really achy from the shivering...are there no bugs about?
I was terrified of the stars as a child...I suppose they're a lot more calming if you don't know what they are, maybe thinking them jewels on a closed vault of heaven rather than maybe-dead lights that make the darkness cold and deep and distant...
No bugs in the cold, surely ... or am I just thinking about Australian bugs? XD *no comment on the army* I'll put some achy shivering in.
I live on stars. The Australian sky is a field of little diamonds, and even though I've always loved it, I never realised how much until I went to Japan and started star-starving }_{
Don't you find the idea of watching the light of a star that died millions of years ago amazing? It's like an echo you can see. Eerie. *vagues out*
Dunno...there's generally woodlice in a forest floor well into the winter here...
Ah, there's no stars in a London sky, I still sometimes stop and stare and bare my teeth to them as they appear over Bristol.
[shudders] It makes me think that when the entirety of this earth is obliterated no-one will ever know it, or the works that were on it, even eventually when our sun dies and the solar system grows cold over bilions of miles of space. They make a sun seem like a speck of diamond-dust, the faint light of million-year-old death reaching out to finger skin, trees, even stone...
There probably are here, too (we call them slater-bugs, I think? are they the same?) ... didn't think of those. Ta!
*curious* Really? You want someone else to know? You know, though. What's here now is pretty beautiful in its way - not everything has the privilege of existing in this instant, after all. It won't last, but it existed for a while, and it was worth it if you think it was. [/two-bit philosophy]
I personally enjoy being insignificant in the universe. Leaves me free to decide that my purpose is to be happy and to do whatever I can to make others likewise, since for whatever reason, that's one of the things that contributes to purpose no. 1. And I mistrust the impulse to give an artificial name to that 'whatever reason', so that's as far as I take it.
Aghhh, I need to see London! O_o Tower ... the Tower ... *twitch*
I've an oddness of a atheistic philosophy that can stand being personally forgotten, but finds the idea of all life and culture on Earth vanishing into that same void as though it meant nothing more phenominally depressing.
If I thought my actions in my lifetime truly did nothing to anything, and I simply ran the rut Purpose laid for me (or alternately willfully messed up my part in the universe), I'd kill myself in the only dubious expression of free will I'd have. I am me, and my fate is as I forge it, in whatever tiny part that is, and stars are only stars...places I'll never see, things I'll never know, the taunting depth of sky that says there is no drawing the darkness close and safe around the lonley earth.
I was terrified of the stars as a child...I suppose they're a lot more calming if you don't know what they are, maybe thinking them jewels on a closed vault of heaven rather than maybe-dead lights that make the darkness cold and deep and distant...
Reply
I live on stars. The Australian sky is a field of little diamonds, and even though I've always loved it, I never realised how much until I went to Japan and started star-starving }_{
Don't you find the idea of watching the light of a star that died millions of years ago amazing? It's like an echo you can see. Eerie. *vagues out*
Reply
Ah, there's no stars in a London sky, I still sometimes stop and stare and bare my teeth to them as they appear over Bristol.
[shudders] It makes me think that when the entirety of this earth is obliterated no-one will ever know it, or the works that were on it, even eventually when our sun dies and the solar system grows cold over bilions of miles of space. They make a sun seem like a speck of diamond-dust, the faint light of million-year-old death reaching out to finger skin, trees, even stone...
Reply
*curious* Really? You want someone else to know? You know, though. What's here now is pretty beautiful in its way - not everything has the privilege of existing in this instant, after all. It won't last, but it existed for a while, and it was worth it if you think it was. [/two-bit philosophy]
I personally enjoy being insignificant in the universe. Leaves me free to decide that my purpose is to be happy and to do whatever I can to make others likewise, since for whatever reason, that's one of the things that contributes to purpose no. 1. And I mistrust the impulse to give an artificial name to that 'whatever reason', so that's as far as I take it.
Aghhh, I need to see London! O_o Tower ... the Tower ... *twitch*
Reply
I've an oddness of a atheistic philosophy that can stand being personally forgotten, but finds the idea of all life and culture on Earth vanishing into that same void as though it meant nothing more phenominally depressing.
If I thought my actions in my lifetime truly did nothing to anything, and I simply ran the rut Purpose laid for me (or alternately willfully messed up my part in the universe), I'd kill myself in the only dubious expression of free will I'd have. I am me, and my fate is as I forge it, in whatever tiny part that is, and stars are only stars...places I'll never see, things I'll never know, the taunting depth of sky that says there is no drawing the darkness close and safe around the lonley earth.
Um. Why the tower in particular?
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment