crowings

I'm looking for someone...

The past month has seen a thousand happenings, all manner of change, shifting sands and faulty forecasts, which have sent me bouncing around their manifold ramifications. Which is nice, as I was feeling rather entrenched and stagnant, and a fresh breeze is always welcome.

Am I being too equivocal? Then I'll just tell you a few things that have been happening.

Most of my (school)...
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For most of my life I've felt a certain lack of fulfillment, a want for some specific, eternal Truth, some construct to provide my life with meaning, or failing that, at least context. In certain ephemeral moments I seemed to glimpse this Truth, some weird premonition from beyond the veil that dispersed as quickly as it came, and left nothing but a deep impression upon...
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There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

LIfe is so full of joy, laughter, and some kind of readiness, some construct, just bordering on, well, mirth, that, every once and a while, I just feel the need to scream out loud and run around a lot.

You know, just every now and then.

I am swirling about a little abyss. The future is bright and glorious. The past is hard, concrete, siezing. I am in the murky middle.

Some say there is a poverty of beauty in human action, but I think we only try to hide it. I think we are afraid of our own beauty, ashamed of its elegance, we who are imperfect beings. We try...
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I blinked.

As ridiculous as it must sound, I've just recently reached the conclusion that I've been talking to myself this entire time. It's silly for me to think otherwise, but nevertheless I was very disheartened by the prospect. It feels a bit like losing a benefactor, I guess. Somehow I thought if I put my thoughts here they would receive some kind of vindication, or at...
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Sorry, I forgot how impotent self-pity always ends up being. What I meant is that, when you harbor as many fantasies, pipe dreams, delusions, flights of fancy, means of escape, whatever-you-want-to-call-them, as I do, there are times that reality (i.e. the wall) hits you pretty hard.

But no worries, that is the meaning of indifference, is it not?

Does the wall ever speak back?*





Clarification:

*This is my stupid, obstruse way of saying that I'm really stressed out, lonely, and tired of talking to the indifferent void, enough so that braining myself against the wall is starting to sound like a reasonable idea.

So I'm feeling somewhat less philosophick now, which is rather ironic considering I have to write the final for my existentialism class today. I have begun the first step in that process, which is of course denial and procrastination, so I decided to use this opportune moment to update, before I move on to the next step (anger and resentment).

It's been snowing. The branches...
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