Definate...

Mel Brooks - [The Inquisition]--- I need to start a school. Or at the very least teach a true Metaphysical Philosophy class. Not simply studying the works of others, but actually thinking about it, and making people come up with and decide upon their own Philosophy on Ultimate Reality, if any at all...

I wanna be a Philosopher, and leave Philosophologizing to whoever wants it... Heheh.

Later.

Mich hat er auch zum Weinen gebracht.

Dreams, last night, of summer dinners, in DC, on the front porches of the family houses on Jay Street. Trying to find the actual place of eating, while carrying my own food, trying not to let it spill. I had to drive and walk across train tracks, from parts of town that were Atlanta, to back alleys that were unmistakably DC.

I'm still sickish, and i think i may have a fever. Trying to keep the warmth up, to break it. That and the caffeine, and the rest of it.

I'm thinking about people i know, and their problems... Things they deal with, daily. It's odd...

I also had that kind of epiphanic moment, where i realised the kind of viral, voyeuristic window that online journals really are. The kind of thing where you sit back, and look into the bits and pieces of people you'd otherwise never get to see. Also as bits of Everyday, that are just... importantly banal... And i wonder how many of us really appreciate that, on that level. That getting to see people. Even if "Friends" and "Friends of" are often misnomers...

Working toward where they don't have to be.

Underbelly ramblings...

Well. Fuck.

So, the the downstairs toilet tank lid is broken into several pieces. Happened last party. Don't know how. The fun parts being that 1) they don't sell replacements, for those; you have to buy a whole new toilet. 2) The realtors are coming to do an inspection, on Thursday. There are tire tracks in the yard (also from the last two parties), and there's that whole tank lid thing, which i just mentioned. Hooray.

And i still feel sick. Damn every little annoying thing.