il me semble d'avoir deja repondu a cette question
2Pime since i've observed this particular rite, something has to have happened, right? but i don't know what it is. it seems like what happens in my life has fragmented away from the need to be recorded, has more to do with experience. it's that time of year to be getting wistful, but then it always is by some calendar. and even though my impatience to move out, revamp my class schedule, and get on with the next phase is characteristically tempered by the cynical voice in my head saying "it's not going to be what you expect" and "you better enjoy what you have while you've got it" i have a good feeling about continuity here. that voice has been right before. but no one's handed out any cookies for it yet. i'm not going to start.
(i'm sick of painting in black and white, sick of limiting myself to your definition
redefine . . .)
i'm ready for a challenge. too long without and i start getting that feeling i get when i've studied too long for an easy test . . . is that all? i'd rather take on the dragon.
i suppose that's the beginnings of hubris. (oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstood.) i ought to just devote myself to self-improvement and community service, goodwill and contemplation of fortune's mild favor. i am fortunate.
(satisfaction is the death of desire.)
the thing is, part of my good feeling about the future is that i think the next change is coming, that this calm will explode into the wicked energy of a thunderstorm and the heat will break. (every flower needs rain.)
before all is done, i'll want the battle. i'll want the angles that do me no good now. no victory in easy conquests. no points for sick dragons, beleaguered dictatorships, trusting victims.
something's changed, something's changing. writing like this i'm just shouting at the walls, waiting to answer myself-- but i have more than an echo to talk to now. less reason to say things just to hear a voice. less bootless introspective recrimination. less cryptography. code is a game with strangers, to understand and be understood. the known has become more inviting. i know better.
echo then, void.
(i'm sick of painting in black and white, sick of limiting myself to your definition
redefine . . .)
i'm ready for a challenge. too long without and i start getting that feeling i get when i've studied too long for an easy test . . . is that all? i'd rather take on the dragon.
i suppose that's the beginnings of hubris. (oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstood.) i ought to just devote myself to self-improvement and community service, goodwill and contemplation of fortune's mild favor. i am fortunate.
(satisfaction is the death of desire.)
the thing is, part of my good feeling about the future is that i think the next change is coming, that this calm will explode into the wicked energy of a thunderstorm and the heat will break. (every flower needs rain.)
before all is done, i'll want the battle. i'll want the angles that do me no good now. no victory in easy conquests. no points for sick dragons, beleaguered dictatorships, trusting victims.
something's changed, something's changing. writing like this i'm just shouting at the walls, waiting to answer myself-- but i have more than an echo to talk to now. less reason to say things just to hear a voice. less bootless introspective recrimination. less cryptography. code is a game with strangers, to understand and be understood. the known has become more inviting. i know better.
echo then, void.