![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
What do you think you'd see in the Mirror of Erised- for those to whom this makes no sense, its power is to show the viewer his deepest desire. What do you think is the fundamental thing that you want, and how do you imagine that would be portrayed visually? I've been wondering what I'd see and having a very difficult time figuring it out.
procrastination
Apr. 1st, 2006 09:55 pmIs there anybody else out there who can spend literally a 16 hour day in front of their computer and do NOTHING? I almost feel like its a superpower, if I wasn't so disgusted with my own laziness. The frustration is making me want to hurt myself *headdesk* ow. Painful, yet refreshing. Wish me luck on this, so's I can actually do the papers I need to do to pass my year.
warning- religious/meditative musings
Mar. 30th, 2006 12:00 amWrote this a month ago, on another diary-thing... probably will change my mind and delete it at this point...just felt I should put up some important thought/life related things here. Y'know, just because.
( A kind and loving creator would never do such a thing, and a cruel one would simply have made the air out of acid )
( A kind and loving creator would never do such a thing, and a cruel one would simply have made the air out of acid )
blast from the past
Mar. 17th, 2006 01:53 pmwow...I have to thank majinmarine for telling me to read his myspace blog, because it meant that I checked my own. Where I found a note from one of my old friends (the sole reason I survived fifth grade, in fact) telling me about her marriage and second baby. Wow. I feel REALLY old.
SWEET ZOMBIE JESUS ON A POGO-STICK!
Mar. 12th, 2006 12:23 pmYes, that's from 8-bit theater. I do feel like I should actually *play* Final Fantasy at some point and maybe it'll be even funnier, but as it is...I just like that quote.
Counting down: 9 days...weee!
I'm in a weird mood this morning. Thinking about change, and mortality, and how it must feel to be my dad- every time he goes back home someone else has died, something new's been built...I can only almost imagine what it must be like to remember getting icecream for sixpence and taking the pony and trap to Mass, and now seeing his old world as it is. I'll hazard a guess that my grandfather's house has changed very little in the past twenty years, but its not the same even still. Sometimes I fear that the lesson I've taken from my father's sorrow is to keep myself away from people, not to get too close, because I know there will be pain in the end.
I hate change- I cried for the loss of Middle Earth when I was nine, and I do believe a part of me still feels guilty that the entwives are lost forever, and that the elves had to cross over the sea to make way for the Age of Men. I stopped looking hopefully into the woods for moving trees about the same time I stopped believing in Santa Claus (I might have been eleven, I'm not sure- I was almost certainly older than anyone else I know was at that age. I think my mom knew I needed to take a good long time to grow up, and I'll never stop being thankful for that.)
Meh. all melancholy now.
Counting down: 9 days...weee!
I'm in a weird mood this morning. Thinking about change, and mortality, and how it must feel to be my dad- every time he goes back home someone else has died, something new's been built...I can only almost imagine what it must be like to remember getting icecream for sixpence and taking the pony and trap to Mass, and now seeing his old world as it is. I'll hazard a guess that my grandfather's house has changed very little in the past twenty years, but its not the same even still. Sometimes I fear that the lesson I've taken from my father's sorrow is to keep myself away from people, not to get too close, because I know there will be pain in the end.
I hate change- I cried for the loss of Middle Earth when I was nine, and I do believe a part of me still feels guilty that the entwives are lost forever, and that the elves had to cross over the sea to make way for the Age of Men. I stopped looking hopefully into the woods for moving trees about the same time I stopped believing in Santa Claus (I might have been eleven, I'm not sure- I was almost certainly older than anyone else I know was at that age. I think my mom knew I needed to take a good long time to grow up, and I'll never stop being thankful for that.)
Meh. all melancholy now.
sono tornata
Mar. 1st, 2006 12:29 pmI'm back, after a mere 12 days in dublin; yesterday was probably the easiest day-full of travelling I've experienced, due in fact to the bad weather and the result that we had a sizeable (hour total, I think) delay in the flight after we'd gotten on the plane. Which means that I had a nice long nap after getting up at four am. I miss everybody again already, so I have to throw myself into work to not think about it. It seemed to make the last time here much shorter, since the middle was the horror of exams. Since I should be getting a visitor next month, I'm not too upset. Goodbyes are always lonely though.
Why are we all so obsessed with eyes? I've noticed it in my own life, and to a greater extent in literature; Its suddenly occured to me to wonder if this tendancy is less in regions where everyone has more or less the same eye color. Is it that they are the one part of the human body that can have a color not rooted in red? Do they make up for our secret regret at not having fur, or bright, iridescent plumage? Or because they are so shiny and pretty, compared to such dull things as skin and hair?
In stabbing news, I can honestly say I kicked ass last weekend at the intervarsities. I didn't win all my bouts or anything like that, but for once I only lost one bout to someone fencing worse than I did, and I think I made up for it by beating someone who's much better. I think that was my best weekend/competition/whatever of fencing ever, which is scary since it followed several months of no training at all. Maybe I'm just getting better at thinking and putting the blade exactly where I want it to be, instead of my usual frustrating attempts at wrist hits that end with a swipe through the air below someone's arm and the dull clang of my mask meeting a sabre.
Why are we all so obsessed with eyes? I've noticed it in my own life, and to a greater extent in literature; Its suddenly occured to me to wonder if this tendancy is less in regions where everyone has more or less the same eye color. Is it that they are the one part of the human body that can have a color not rooted in red? Do they make up for our secret regret at not having fur, or bright, iridescent plumage? Or because they are so shiny and pretty, compared to such dull things as skin and hair?
In stabbing news, I can honestly say I kicked ass last weekend at the intervarsities. I didn't win all my bouts or anything like that, but for once I only lost one bout to someone fencing worse than I did, and I think I made up for it by beating someone who's much better. I think that was my best weekend/competition/whatever of fencing ever, which is scary since it followed several months of no training at all. Maybe I'm just getting better at thinking and putting the blade exactly where I want it to be, instead of my usual frustrating attempts at wrist hits that end with a swipe through the air below someone's arm and the dull clang of my mask meeting a sabre.
