Windchimes

temptation

You know, I never much like what I've written when it feeds off my cynicism. Not for long, anyway. It's delicious at first, but I can only laugh about it for so long. A moment of happiness paid for with ... oh I don't know. More than I find myself willing to pay, now that I think about it. It's just too easy, and maybe, in my case, the path of least resistance. I've never found very satisfying rewards at the ends of those kinds of paths.

And I think that's part of what's kept me away from this journal for a while this time, having written something so cynical last time I typed in one of these little white boxes, and I don't even do cynicism very well. I'm no Mark Twain. And speaking of Twain...

We're into the final push for the summer course I'm taking. One more semi-long documented essay to write, one final exam (extemporaneous essay writing, and no one gets away without writing something about Huck Finn) and then a couple of weeks with no such assignments.

So, here I go, back to work on the various manuscripts that feed into Twain's "Mysterious Stranger."

J.H. Larrew
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