My recent absence from this blog is not due to any special lack of happenings. As usual, I've wallowed in a muddle of various degrees of longing, equivocation, boredom, jealousy and loathing more or less continually throughout the last few weeks. There's also been no lack of external stimulus -- snowboarding, movies, out-hanging, school and the Gettysburg trip, Soldat, etc. -- which would once, in this blog's plump years of infancy, have been enough to release torrents teeming with pointless detail and odd grammar. Now, though, I can't find many new thoughts or words. Much as I like to consider my inner life a rich, if not quite healthy one, the raw material of my thoughts comes from without. I am a thin-skinned frog whose pond has grown stagnant, but I know that the river of time will bring fresh waters. And now I hate myself for having written the preceding sentence.
posted on Sunday, March 20, 2005
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