Summer is here, so I LAZE. Oh, how I freaking laze. I think I want to do something else, and what ends up happening? LAZING.
I'm working on interesting articles behind the scenes, but I think I miss the point of blogging. It sort of breaks down in to, "Lets follow Bohrstein down some thought experiment where he contemplates trivial everyday happenings," says some abnoxious reporter, live and on the scene. It's not exciting, most people don't care; I have nothing to give. I'm also constantly lacking in the mathematics, or so I feel. See, why would I write that?
Gosh, I'm in a dreary mood today.
Out.
1 comment:
It's all training for that great time, somewhere in the future, when you will write and others will read, and all will be well. ¶ Only it won't be. For you will realize that the worst thing about art is that your audience, though broad and noisy, will always disappoint you, like a back-handed compliment. ¶ You may as well accept that now. You will always be alone, attracted to sleep and stupor. Recognition only makes it worse. (Unless it is the recognition of those like yourself.) ¶ Laze? Do that, but not too much. ¶ You a re a soldier in an army, and you must get ready for war. ¶ Fighting what? ¶ I do not know. Don't ask me that.
“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." --Not sure about the "glory of your father" part, but the rest is pretty right on. EVen if it is in the Bible.
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