University starts up again tomorrow. Hopefully after a few weeks in there, my syntax and vocabulary will undergo some much required resurgence and I’ll be able to produce any form of good writing. Anything. I do not really understand the reason I have decided to post about this — perhaps little retrospect was the point. I have been doing a lot of not that recently. It isn’t some lingering exhaustion of the mind that I feel, or perhaps it might be, but it is just the imminence of a novelty that is keeping me on my toes.
There are concepts of war I had never been exposed to before a few weeks ago, and it is as if something poured some washed-out oil paint on a haggard canvas, not qaint or old, but vile on many standards. In that illiterate metaphor I am trying to figuratively “paint” the idea of how I feel about retrospection — I feel almost incapable of it sometimes, because there is little memory of how I used to think and feel. It is a chosen form of dementia that keeps many ogres and trolls at bay. I guess it doesn’t matter if any of this crap makes sense or not, the point is I am wherever I am now with a goal I never had before.
I wake up in the mornings with the consciousness that I have been preserved by God, and that I am moving with the will of Him and breathing and speaking and eating and drinking. I have entered a realm of mind that swirls only faith in a pretty glass bottle of incredulously palatable sparkling water, inviting as many others as it can, and I am grappling to remain. This is what this is about.
It is about me attempting to value and devalue and revalue in appropriate accordance to a nascent comprehension of the universe. A new existence, so to speak. I want to live better, I think is what I am trying to say. And I don’t want to do it on my terms — I want to want the written terms, because I merely want to pass safely into the firmament.
University starts tomorrow and in some auspicious literary word vomit concoction it will be another “start” — take a deep breath, blink a few times, turn on the mental gears and leap.
Endnote: this feature photo is my own photography. That’s a heater, I suppose meant for representing the ‘fire’ a stupid teenager continues to carry even without speaking. Blah.