I will be going to sleep now. But it is Sunday night and I just watched my daily fix of Twin Peaks and have my knitting stuff all around. And my body lies here so quietly, while my soul seems to dance, scream and jump to the sound of the Shins.
I don't know if I want to continue this blog. I feel it is revealing, somehow. I don't want to be revealing lately. I have paid my price for that. I still do.
I guess I keep making mistakes.
I am doing fine if you are interested in that. I am. Very happy at the moment.
Thinking of the future. A bit too much. Also of the present. Of what it means to be 17, now that I am slowly moving to the next number. I am a teenager, it is sooo true. More than ever, I am 17. There is so many things I don't know and I am trying to figure out. .. (cheeesy) At some point I belived someone would come along and help me out on that, someone to hold me and point the way. Doesn't happen. Only leads you astray. Last Spring I woke up from that fanatasy. This Winter is being a bit hard on me just because it is so real. I got real. It feels liberating to think so.
Maybe Descartes was right in the beggining of it all. There is you, only you. At least first and foremost you. I woke up to my little positive egocentric predicament.
2 comentários:
just one thing:
nothing good ever begins with a phrase 'Maybe Descartes was right'
he wasn't
What Descartes shows us is that it is not about being right. It is about having the guts to publish your book with a set of objections and answers (or attempts) to it and, of course, keep on proving God, somehow... A lesson for life.
Enviar um comentário