He wanted to know who he was, where he came from. But that desire was tempered by fear of what he might find out about himself. About his role in the very things that had brought him to this point.
I’m in a bit of a slump right now. Not just a blogging slump but a life slump. A blogging slump I can deal with; take a break and come back when I’m ready and inspired. But a life slump… You can’t take a break from life unfortunately. Sleep is probably the closest I’ll get, and who knows how much of that I’ll manage to get. Don’t get me wrong, 2015 has been a good year. It just didn’t end quite so hot. But hey, at least there’s nowhere to go but up, right?
I don’t remember what I did yesterday, much less the past year. Sifting through my blog archive, Facebook timeline, and Tumblr, I’ve managed to put together a list of highlights from 2015. I suppose I should match it with something about how it’s been such a great year and start wrapping it up, but… it doesn’t feel like the end. And I don’t mean this in a “deep” way. I just mean that I’m more attuned to the academic year, and so it doesn’t feel like I’m at the end of the year, but rather at the middle of it.
So how about let’s say it’s been a great year of adventures, and I can’t wait to carry them on, because the adventures won’t stop here. 2016 is going to be… Oh wait, lemme save that post for tomorrow 😉
When someone’s been gone a long time, at first you save up all the things you want to tell them. You try to keep track of everything in your head. But it’s like trying to hold on to a fistful of sand: all the little bits slip out of your hands, and then you’re just clutching air and grit. That’s why you can’t save it all up like that. Because by the time you finally see each other, you’re catching up only on the big things, because it’s too much bother to tell about the little things. But the little things are what make up life.
Every time you post something online you have a choice. You can either make it something that adds to the happiness levels in the world—or you can make it something that takes away.
And just as music is the space between notes, just as the stars are beautiful because of the space between them, just as the sun strikes raindrops at a certain angle and throws a prism of color across the sky–so the space where I exist, and want to keep existing, and to be quite frank I hope I die in, is exactly this middle distance: where despair struck pure otherness and created something sublime.