Saturday, February 25, 2012

I am. Today. Sorry, Master Dodgson.

Saturday night. And, for some reason, I'm sort of in high spirits.

Perhaps some might view it funny or strange or downright creepy that I usually get psyched in the nighttime, which has been associated with darkness (somewhat obviously), cold, evil, horror, the supernatural, the supranatural, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, murderers, rapists, kidnappers, monsters, the dead, the undead, fear, sorrow, melancholy, the unknown, which mostly inspire gloom and dread (maybe with the exception of vampires and werewolves, albeit for weird and inappropriate reasons nowadays). But that's alright. I do.

In fact I've just been reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, by Stieg Larsson, translated into English by Reg Keeland. It took around one sixth of the book to get me going, but by the time I'm halfway done, I can't put it down. Read it. Interesting. And, by the way, possible minor spoiler alert.

The book is partly what puts me in a rather uppy mood tonight. You see, the eponymous character is a problematic person, who glides through school without exceptional achievements. If I'm not mistaken, she dropped out of college or something. Her academic history is not... good, in short. Of course, as with all problematic main characters, she is virtually perfect in at least one area of expertise, namely investigation. (I'm not done with the book, so I can't really say more than that, thank you very much.)

And that's what lifted my spirits tonight. If you know me at all, I suppose you ought to know that my grades aren't exactly what you'd call brilliant. Especially last semester. Ugh.

But stories like that, those are the ones that I (and I presume those similar to me) delight in. What kind of stories exactly? You know, stories in which the dropouts (or near-dropouts) are actually quite capable people, and simply has not shown all their capabilities yet, for whatever reason. Stories like this give me hope.

It led me to a revelation. A stunningly simple realization.

Your life doesn't (necessarily) end if you fail college.

See? Imagine sometime in the future, maybe a year from now, when confronted with a doubter, and you say "Give me a year," and a year later you have learned, maybe mastered, all the skills you need for your life. Possible, right? Pleasant, even. Satisfying.

All those might sound pathetic. Well, if it's pathetic to have faith in yourself, then I suppose I am pathetic.

Maybe I'll become a Peripatetic. Who knows?

The future is not real. Not tangible. Not writ. Nonexistent as of yet.

We are free.







Or at least I am.



P.S. Well, back to the book. It gets really interesting in part 3, specifically around chapter 16. People die in it.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

One of the promptings from the dark and locked off parts of my mind.

Hello.

It's been quite a while since I last saw you.

Well, not really, I saw you on the first day of the term. Which was not even a month ago.
But that was not a proper meeting. More like passing each other on our own way to someplace. It was exactly that, now that I think of it.

Our last real meeting was on your birthday, way back in the dark age that was 2011.
Fun? Of course. Always a pleasure to see you. With her, as usual. There was the slight annoyance of meeting him on the way to your place, but the meeting itself was nonetheless pleasant.

Fun. Happy.

But not nearly enough.
Not nearly enough.

I think of you nearly everyday.
I wish I don't, but I do.

And the more I think of you, the more I become unsure.
I realized... I don't really know you that well.
Forgive me, but that is what I feel.

And this... this FRIGHTENS me.
I hate being frightened.

What do I fear?
Not very many things that I am aware of.

But I am afraid of loving my projection of you more than I love the real living you.

I need to see you.
I need to hear you.
I need to experience you.
I need to know you.

Before the probably inaccurate image of you crushes my mind completely.