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wolven7i don't really havge that much to say, right now... if any thing is said, it is by happenstance, alone.... there has not been much, here, to keep me busy, or aggivated, or interested, of late, and i'm ok with that, for now. When i say "Here", by the way, i'm refering to the world. *sigh* Listening to Bif Naked, wishing i were in WVa., or anywhere, with my girlfriend...
Are you all treating each other well? are you being good little neophytes, while i've been gone? Well, that's not fair... you aren't all neophytes... No. You are. In some area or another, you are all neophytes. There is something into which you have, only recently, become involved. This makes you neophytes, no matter who you are... Even god is a neophyte... maybe more than any of us...
as long as i'm babbling, here's a poem i wrote, about a month ago, for no reason:
Without Design
We cannot control
that which completes that
which we seek.
Our expectation, in the end,
only lets us expect
to be let down,
by pain.
And all there is,
in expectation,
is that which allows us to
regret.
That's it. Not for the post; simply the poem. "WE are the lucky ones..." i guess we are at that... No useful output today... nothing's irking me... i simply have this vague urge to explain... until someone shovels some coal into my thought train, i'll see you all later.
Are you all treating each other well? are you being good little neophytes, while i've been gone? Well, that's not fair... you aren't all neophytes... No. You are. In some area or another, you are all neophytes. There is something into which you have, only recently, become involved. This makes you neophytes, no matter who you are... Even god is a neophyte... maybe more than any of us...
as long as i'm babbling, here's a poem i wrote, about a month ago, for no reason:
Without Design
We cannot control
that which completes that
which we seek.
Our expectation, in the end,
only lets us expect
to be let down,
by pain.
And all there is,
in expectation,
is that which allows us to
regret.
That's it. Not for the post; simply the poem. "WE are the lucky ones..." i guess we are at that... No useful output today... nothing's irking me... i simply have this vague urge to explain... until someone shovels some coal into my thought train, i'll see you all later.
