just your average... er... correction: just your normal... correction: me. |
Sitting here idly rubbing a decade of a rosary, found it in my room, figured it can't hurt. Actually, it's sort of weird, I never really looked at it before... "the Lady of Perpetual Help" is at the bottom. Appropriate, I guess. I really wish I had some sort of solid faith, but I don't let myself... A single solid belief would be nice, aside from "some higher power"... Feeling sort of numb, sort of nauseous. And there's not a damn thing I can do... It's funny the things you miss in people--the things you don't want to see and, therefore, don't. For acting like such a pessimist, I really do try to look for the best in people. The problem comes when I make up the best. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Or maybe that's just my drive to disagree. The first step is always the hardest, the illusion that it is five miles beyond. The second step is a doozy, but definitely possible. From there, it depends on the elevation of your hill... I meant to write today, I got about a paragraph done when something serious came up. But the newsletter is 95% done. It's really bad when a writer is at a total and utter loss for words... Such a loss of words that thoughts can hardly be formed... I need to revamp the English language, create words for all those things which have no words. Emotions, experiences, categories which have no name. The only problem would come in defining them, which I guess is the catch-22. Things never really resolve on their own. The actions of humans and/or freak circumstances account for most resolutions, but there must be some design to it all... Some twisted fractal of a seemingly haphazard design... That's probably my fascination with tree branches in winter, the pattern in the chaos. If only it were as easy as to stand back and marvel... |