themes: let us cultivate our garden

Nothing is making much sense right now, and yet I’m still hoping for a specific outcome, no matter how far removed from reality it might be. This is where “What-If” leads you if you’re not careful, I suppose.

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2003

July

2003 Jul 9

The Art of Self-Medication

OK, OK, I promise I’ll stop feeling sorry for myself. Or at least I’ll try and cut down.

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2004

March

2004 Mar 4

priorities

I wish I wouldn't be so heavy handed, melodramatic, and dead-serious philosophical about all this, but, well, one problem at a time, I suppose….

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2006

September

2006 Sep 3

fearing tomorrow

I don’t know if there was ever a time when I looked forward to the future. Some of this is probably depression clouding my mind, by I remember quite early on in my life that I was afraid of building for the future. As early as elementary school, I was always afraid that Reagan would press the shiny red button and effectively erase history, but somehow, it never happened. Among other things, I am afraid of falling in love, because love can always be lost. I am afraid of bringing a child into this world, because the world is such a fucked up place run by clearly evil human beings. I am afraid of trying to succeed, because there are always fuckwits out there who have nothing better to do than to see you fall on your ass, and point and laugh. And I am afraid of trying to succeed, because, ultimately, human beings tend to be selfish, and however noble my intentions are, they will likely fuck someone else’s life up, and the only rational thing for them to do is oppose me.

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2006 Sep 12

the last few moments of this particular age

So here I am, the last hours of my 20s, and there are no answers, really.

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2011

January

2011 Jan 14

anger born of grief

Maybe I should just make another Twitter and/or FriendFeed account to serve as an outlet for the random thoughts that come unbidden to my mind that are too tangential and decontextualized for anyone else to make sense of. I'm not really ready to coherently blog about everything that has happened. I was really only going to post three words that popped into my head as I listened to NPR and hearing about how the staff of Gabrielle Gifford's office is doing, three words that imperfectly describe what I've been feeling this entire week:

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2015

February

2015 Feb 27

rest in peace, Leonard Nimoy

Leonard Nimoy's last tweet: "A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" https://twitter.com/TheRealNimoy/status/569762773204217857

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