It would seem--nay, it DOES seem--that a new post is necessary. All of these convoluted incrementality blog spots are almost as irritating to oversee as they are to behold.
Oui, oui, all the way home.
What's this coming year to bring? (That's a fine thing to consider, Mr. Gallaher; if you repeat that with some frequency, then it stands to reason that the foolhardy construct of a calendar year will dissipate, and that can't be a bad thing. [The passing of time--the impossibly simpleminded way in which those of us ensnared by modernity measure things--is such a lousy barometer of success. First of all, it's elastic (boogie woogie woogie [clap clap]). Second, that same elasticity renders impossible an empirical determination of success.] So, it's better just to change subjects, is all I'm saying.)
So, it's been a lovely birthday, and it's been very much like any other day. I think that this type of thing is comforting--sexy, even. Why have a time that involves such a labor-intensive departure from normalcy in order to commemorate existence, when it's "normalcy" itself that deserves change into something more affirming.
For instance, I would have loved a party with all of my friends around. Of course, that couldn't happen, because we're all far away from each other, and it'd be an impracticable humor game to accomplish. Instead, there could exist options for envisioning (and perhaps enacting) life changes in order to address that issue of separation.
It's possible that it could even be as simple as a perspectival issue, which is something to which I am awakening. Seeing my life and my time spent in relatively remote circumstances not as being shrouded in lack, but supported by a wide-ranging and far-reaching abundance.
I'm going to try to watch the premiere of Mad Men. I've waited for so long.
Oui, oui, all the way home.
What's this coming year to bring? (That's a fine thing to consider, Mr. Gallaher; if you repeat that with some frequency, then it stands to reason that the foolhardy construct of a calendar year will dissipate, and that can't be a bad thing. [The passing of time--the impossibly simpleminded way in which those of us ensnared by modernity measure things--is such a lousy barometer of success. First of all, it's elastic (boogie woogie woogie [clap clap]). Second, that same elasticity renders impossible an empirical determination of success.] So, it's better just to change subjects, is all I'm saying.)
So, it's been a lovely birthday, and it's been very much like any other day. I think that this type of thing is comforting--sexy, even. Why have a time that involves such a labor-intensive departure from normalcy in order to commemorate existence, when it's "normalcy" itself that deserves change into something more affirming.
For instance, I would have loved a party with all of my friends around. Of course, that couldn't happen, because we're all far away from each other, and it'd be an impracticable humor game to accomplish. Instead, there could exist options for envisioning (and perhaps enacting) life changes in order to address that issue of separation.
It's possible that it could even be as simple as a perspectival issue, which is something to which I am awakening. Seeing my life and my time spent in relatively remote circumstances not as being shrouded in lack, but supported by a wide-ranging and far-reaching abundance.
I'm going to try to watch the premiere of Mad Men. I've waited for so long.
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