"And the rest of our lives do the moments accrue, and the shape of their goneness will flare up anew."

this is the third time i've started writing a post tonight. it has been a strange, strange evening. bad mostly, though, as always, both the night and its frustrations have settled. what is a little worrying is that i wasn't so sure that they would this time, which is a feeling i haven't had since year eleven at the latest.
of course, i read amanda palmer's diary and watched avril lavigne videos on youtube, and things are better.
who was i to doubt the intransience of all things? i even spent half an hour watching two monks create a sand mandala yesterday. there are no coincidences.
tonight i came across my drama journal from year nine. it's quite amazing, i both dearly miss and desperately distance myself from the person i was in those days. the abbreviations kill me. the conviction of my words kills me also, but in that where-did-my-burning-sense-of-justice-go kind of way. really, where?
i vow to get some of it back. (though please hit me in the neck with the blade of an axe if i start writing articles for the sociallist alliance. RULING ELITE? WHAT?!! i cannot abide their 19th century rhetoric and frightfully biased journalism.(although i will sign their petitions, attend their events and buy their badges)).
i'm looking forward to the holidays. they are at quite a distance, but whisper promises about the writing of stories and the learning of pipes. i would have liked two weeks break at easter... i feel myself losing momentum. oh well. things will pick up.
toast and essays beckon.

night night