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Faced with the unutterable, words still disintigrate...
And ever new, out of the most quivering stones, music builds her divine house in useless space.
-Rilke
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I am moody.
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[I am not very good at html]
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sometimes i wish... [a blog]
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Sunday, February 17, 2002
[post-script]
sometimes i sound like i know what i'm talking about.
i don't.
at least not in the relative sense of how much i could/should know about it.
i don't even begin to realize all that i don't even begin to realize.
i have touched on the fact that i am ungrateful.
i don't know how ungrateful i am anymore than someone who doesn't want to wake up realizes that their house burned down along with everyone they've ever known and everything they've ever owned--they just know someone wants to wake them and there's probably a reason.
i know i'm ungrateful and that there's lots of reasons.
i can almost think of .0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001% of them, but probably much less than that.
closer to 1 infinityth of all the reasons probably...
so i am still ungrateful.
slowly learning.
making progress like a man buried in an avalanche of epic proportions attempting to eat his way out. without any teeth.
11:41 PM
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