Patience can be overrated.
But sincerity… there seems to be a solid place for that.
Patience can be overrated.
I don’t think it’s ever occurred to me that “laughter” could be turned to “slaughter” with the simple addition of an “s”. That disconcerted me quite a bit, for some reason.
An agent of chaos cannot be viewed with merciful eyes. He’s fascinating, and even appreciable if you can bend your mind around, but he is beyond saving, and an asylum/prison is a silly place to put something that promises itself as an unstoppable force of destruction. It’s not even as simple as kill or be killed, it comes down to something much simpler. He won’t just kill you, he’ll maim, torment, kill, destroy—according to whim and level of chaos factor—your family, friends, city. And you won’t kill him because it’s against your morals? As far as a selfish choice goes…
Thought more about the parable, and the piece that had not made sense to me was the mention of “hiding” the treasure. The kind of treasure it would be likened to should not need hiding and even if it was meant to convey a great treasure, then the word choice of hiding it should hold significance.
Even 8, 7, 6, 5 years are significant.
There’s a crease threatening to form between my brows that would not be cute in 30 years. But the hard scowl is essential to Angry Ali look. I don’t know what I’m going to do :-/
I have mini injuries all over. knuckle bruise is still there from table hockey (on my middle finger.. which makes guilting the responsible party a lot more interesting..). hole in foot still healing from the nail. bruise on arm from tetanus shot. both shins in definite pain anytime I walk now. bottoms of feet feeling very worn. bruised finger on my left hand somehow. and all of those are too minor and not painful enough for me to complain about — but that won’t stop me. :)
Sleep has been escaping me pretty thoroughly. But it’s really hard to complain when you’re kept up by good things.
I don’t want to delete or edit them. I don’t love running into them or knowing they’re there.. but
Whether ultimately mistakes or not,
they are as was when they were written.
Whatever it takes. Except that it takes two..
love is not conditional
If others don’t care, why should I?
Then really, why should anyone care at all?
Perhaps it’s not too different from believing in some things simply because the alternative is crap..
but given the choice, shouldn’t we choose awareness, responsibility, life?
and life is a choice, first and foremost.
(though also a responsibility and no man is an island and one should take responsibility for their influence—however minute/pathetic—in the universe/upon others)
So I’m not begrudging that.
But I was surprised because
life should not be a gamble.
Life should be amazing and beautiful and appreciated and valuable and meaningful for itself. Not a measly (in the scheme of things) stepping stone to get anywhere, no matter how grand.
Life has to mean more than that. Individuality, bodies, minds, feelings, art, senses.. they simply must mean more than that.
And if they don’t, then just how glorious can Glory be?
I thought I’d broken Ferrydust for a bit…
I think I’ve pinpointed the issue to the birthday post for Toby.. Was weird for a bit.
Anyway, yes, I have a hole in my foot. No, I’m not going to die. I don’t know if I’ve had my tetanus shot[recently]; if the doctor’s office never calls me back, I may never know.
Looks like a nice day out there, despite expected rain. i’d really like to make the Bond movie, but why is everything so busy and many things so messy lately?
Common thread is me/my time/space, neh?
Common threads.. important threads.. awareness, responsibility; choices, preferences, determination..