Errata in the Boundary of Night
The beauty of having an orphan blog is that occasionally it can act as a sounding board to one's own private conversations with the self.
It's all very draining. And yet, I keep coming back. I'd miss my friends.
I am honestly getting tired of LI. Yet, like an addict I visit it everyday, read "stuff," and then launch into diatribes inspired by my father, who would often say, "Short words move men." He has a reverence for Churchill.
It's been a difficult thing to navigate the world, to make choices that improve not only my well-being but for that of others, too.
I haven't grown so much disillusioned as I have been feeling like I am merely absorbing the disillusionment of others. There are plenty of stories out there attempting to reform the dark underbelly of life by only shining a light on it. Few provide options. It's a lot of bitching and moaning. Guilty as charged.
So now I am trying to follow people who create things either in Art or Science. Though I was at the Engineering School at Cornell, if I had to do it all over, I'd go to the Arts & Sciences school instead.
I'm tired of reading words soaked with despair, disgust, anger, and rage. I'm tired of the tendency to wipe it all under the rug and put on a happy face.
I guess... I am just tired...
So now I am trying to follow people who create things either in Art or Science. Though I was at the Engineering School at Cornell, if I had to do it all over, I'd go to the Arts & Sciences school instead.
I'm tired of reading words soaked with despair, disgust, anger, and rage. I'm tired of the tendency to wipe it all under the rug and put on a happy face.
I guess... I am just tired...
It's all very draining. And yet, I keep coming back. I'd miss my friends.
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