— Albert Camus, The Rebel (via fromtheinsight)
(via fuckyeahexistentialism)
I will be so suprised if there is anything left of this place by the time I leave.
I just don’t understand why you feel compelled to pick a fight with every object you encounter.
I was just thinking about my high school experience and I remembered a certain discouraging thought I had during some dark moment.
I was disappointed in the way I felt, and I remember expecting to feel better when I ‘suddenly opened the floodgates.’ I had expected to cry a lot and have those awful feelings we all get come rushing out of me in some kind of big cluster-fuck of a moment. Needless to say my life (which was full of emotional peaks and basins) felt anticlimactic when it didn’t happen. I feared that I had failed at making room in my heart for the good things, and was doomed to live my life just as I was.
What I didn’t realise was that I had it all backwards. The whole point of opening those ugly doors to my ‘self’ was to let in the things I was obviously lacking. I know this isn’t a very original thought, but I guess my perspective on the way it all happened is a little different. I guess the heart is big enough to hold all things if you let it.
Anyways…..Time for Karate :)
He was wise, to write his musings in sand.
Yes, I experienced it.
But only when coming back.
I reveled in the endless back stories of these tributes to an empire.
I might like to take art history abroad. You know, just for funsies :)
Maybe France?
I love your foreign pronunciations.
I make up meanings for you words on my own.
Sometimes they make more sense that way.
If I could have unearthed an understandable set of words, I would have already said them.
But for now, I plot out the zones and try to organize the site.
I have to know where it all came from.
Ok no more flying for me. *haha*
I am a small bird. With fragile wings caught in a tornado, I am convinced that I can take on a hurricane.
A Fierce Light
