I want to create the universe in which my goals are actualized and it's as easy as getting into the right car at the right time. (Midnight.)
I revise history in my mind. I imagine the present as if I could write the screen play while playing the part. (It tends to involve a lot of monologues.) My hyperactive imagination considers the dialogue to be a crucial element in constructing realistic scenes - it requires more than a few takes to get it just right. This tends to keep the mind occupied til the wee hours -- time better spent dreaming about living those dreams.
One of my favorite remarks to make about this tricky, tricky time involves having a squeaky-clean mind. (As you see, mine is quite dirty.) I stole the premise from a Liar, except instead of erasing the memories of a person, I would erase the past 1.5 years of my life. "In an instant", I add emphatically, and whoever is sitting across me, earnestly trying to relate, nods vigorously.
Like Icarus seeking eternal sunshine, I too may be making a dreadful mistake by trying to escape with such cheap machinery. I realize this now.
For although I say I can save the "good" parts - souvenirs of the almost overwhelming kindness and compassion I have encountered throughout this ridiculous test of strength, what would I save? A hospital band attached to a "get-well-soon" dancing frog doll? A half-eaten sleeve of the Saltines I practically lived off of? A borrowed t-shirt to sleep in? A train ticket to Connecticut in the middle of the week?
But what of words? hugs? An understanding about "calling anytime"? Cupcakes and cab rides? The juice. 10 different juices. "I admire you."
No context. I have a midterm tomorrow in a course that attempts to emphasize the importance of it.
Written accounts of exploits and a handful of letters left up to scholars to translate have had piles and piles of commentary attempting to reinterpret the interpretation -- and I'm trying to work off some receipts and recyclables.
Happiness is all about the baseline. And if these many months have made the ability to walk a block without wheezing something to rejoice over, then I suppose I should leave them be. I am quite fine being excited over the ordinary.
(I'll fix this later.)
I revise history in my mind. I imagine the present as if I could write the screen play while playing the part. (It tends to involve a lot of monologues.) My hyperactive imagination considers the dialogue to be a crucial element in constructing realistic scenes - it requires more than a few takes to get it just right. This tends to keep the mind occupied til the wee hours -- time better spent dreaming about living those dreams.
One of my favorite remarks to make about this tricky, tricky time involves having a squeaky-clean mind. (As you see, mine is quite dirty.) I stole the premise from a Liar, except instead of erasing the memories of a person, I would erase the past 1.5 years of my life. "In an instant", I add emphatically, and whoever is sitting across me, earnestly trying to relate, nods vigorously.
Like Icarus seeking eternal sunshine, I too may be making a dreadful mistake by trying to escape with such cheap machinery. I realize this now.
For although I say I can save the "good" parts - souvenirs of the almost overwhelming kindness and compassion I have encountered throughout this ridiculous test of strength, what would I save? A hospital band attached to a "get-well-soon" dancing frog doll? A half-eaten sleeve of the Saltines I practically lived off of? A borrowed t-shirt to sleep in? A train ticket to Connecticut in the middle of the week?
But what of words? hugs? An understanding about "calling anytime"? Cupcakes and cab rides? The juice. 10 different juices. "I admire you."
No context. I have a midterm tomorrow in a course that attempts to emphasize the importance of it.
Written accounts of exploits and a handful of letters left up to scholars to translate have had piles and piles of commentary attempting to reinterpret the interpretation -- and I'm trying to work off some receipts and recyclables.
Happiness is all about the baseline. And if these many months have made the ability to walk a block without wheezing something to rejoice over, then I suppose I should leave them be. I am quite fine being excited over the ordinary.
(I'll fix this later.)
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