9:15

The universe was designed to break your heart.

An unreasonable (& bloody understandable) chimera

I feel flat.

I should know better by now, in all my vast blogging experience, that post-midnight blogging is dangerous and leads to the spilling of secrets better kept tucked safely away. But as I can't even formulate an interesting thought, let alone a scandalous one, I think my secrets will stay safe for tonight.

The mind is an amazing thing. When I most depend on it, it abandons me completely. Instead, at the most inappropriate times, it manages to turn a seemingly innocuous road of thought barren of any overhanging branches of intrigue or romance into a brambly path of doubt, a breathless well of anticipation, or even a misty field of unfairly expropriated glamour.

Am I talking of my mind...
or my heart?

lurk /lɜrk/ Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–verb (used without object)
1. to lie or wait in concealment, as a person in ambush; remain in or around a place secretly or furtively.
2. to go furtively; slink; steal.
3. to exist unperceived or unsuspected.
4. Chiefly Computers. to read or observe an ongoing discussion without participating in it, as in an Internet newsgroup. –noun Australian Informal.
5. an underhand scheme; dodge.
6. an easy, somewhat lazy or unethical way of earning a living, performing a task, etc.
7. a hideout.


A hiatus is said to be healthy, even essential, as it permits a time of reflection and a gain of new perspective. In my hiatus from my blog, I gained one very startling new perspective: apparently, I have lurkers.

The notion that people actually read this blog was disquieting enough. But that people read it and don’t leave comments… It’s like being hounded by a stalker who doesn't want to invest enough effort to leave you sinister notes or potentially poisoned chocolates. It’s just a little embarrassing.

Then again, I know some of the comments I’m tempted to make to myself after posting an entry. Maybe a little anonymity, even more so than new perspective, is healthier for everyone in the long run.

Train the monkeys on my back to fight

How can the slam of a car door,
the click of a window shutting,
the dry snap of a turned calendar page
be equivalent to the change of an entire season?

Fall 2007 – I saw that written today for the first time on the cover page of the Travaux dirigés pour Chapitre I in my Chimie des elements réprésentatifs class. « Fall 2007 » is so much more than just a season and a date, it’s the beginning of something significant in the lives of students circling the globe. For me, it’s the beginning of Year 3 of degree, Year 3 of choice, Year 3 of stepping hesitantly and courageously and ridiculously forward into the world I hope… know… ache for… to one day be my own.

It’s a season of change. Fall always has been, and will continue to be. God knows us too well and sculpts us so intimately in each veined, embarrassed blush on each protective tree that hugs us in its shadow on our walk to wherever it is we’re devoting our next eight months.

I am devoted to here, and I feel that my choice to be here is an act of devotion to the One I believe has placed me here. And yet I rebel against being here because it means forcing my mind to stretch eight months in advance… and then what? I’m terrified that my choices now are slowly smudging away at the choices I thought I didn’t have to make. And though I revelled in the thought of not yet making them, now I’m aching at the thought that I may never have to. I’m hurting with incertitude. And tearing apart with frustration at the same time.

Happy September.