(no subject)

[somedaybitch]

with a delighted hat tip to bexxa, i read James Lileks' latest entry.

it's touching, heartwarming, a bit sniffle-inducing, and oh so very meta about oh so very much. like reason number sixmillionthreehundredforthythreethousandfourhundredandtwelve for going to Comic-con.

But if “the end” is what counts above all, why bother with anything.

and all i can say to that is...camel, yo.

Comments

[bexxa.livejournal.com]

You're welcome.

Alas, no Comic Con for me (there's a triple birthday party I can't miss, for Lileksian reasons), and I'm sorry to miss the opportunity to see y'all in person.

Hope everyone arrives safely, has a fabbo time, and returns home equally safely.

[somedaybitch.livejournal.com]

next year. and don't think you're gettin' out of it, missy. :::eyes you sharply:::

[bexxa.livejournal.com]

It's a matter of timing. These same birthdays will happen next July, too, and the convenient weekend nearest the 18th, 23rd, and 26th will be the party I can't miss, regardless of when Comic Con takes place.

I'll hold my thumbs, though, for fortuitous timing...

[arthurfrdent.livejournal.com]

I bow to you both...

Because I’m young and stupid and the wrong things matter? Yup.

and I drove the really long way home tonight 'cuz I can... [ask spook if you can get from littleton to castle rock, by way of parker and franktown]

through the open sunroof was Ursa Major and on my left the moon and [I presume] saturn?, and lower the Scorpion, with it's burning heart... I have always driven. Somewhere in my DNA is a combination that insists that I cannot really process info, unless there is some other low level physical thing going on. Like walking or driving or biking. Same reason I prefer speakers to headphones, and sometimes have to talk with myself to hear the words in my head. It just IS that way.

So reading this amusing article, what I heard was 'these are shallow dreams that men misapprehend their lives to be...' [it's paraphrased from something, I dun remember what]. I'm sure that some would think that watching the stars wheel over head , or my children playing with me on the one night a week I see them, isn't "A Life" as in I need to get one.

I guess reading James inability to get his oil changed and his casual but serious knowledge about what a dog means, reinforced a bit how I see my own life.

It's a bit easier prolly when you already chased that 'life' and then gave it away to the person who actually wanted it. A bit easier to remember the smell of sagebrush on the summer wind... after driving miles out on the mesa at midnight... to sit on the hood of a '70 ford pickup and write about loneliness as the waxing gibbous moon rose behind Taos mountain to the east. It's difficult to tell that angst-ridden teenager that someday they would wish they could still be there, or that the memory is an arrow of time.

The wrong things mattered, but that does not lessen my love for this life. Had I made different decisions what then? You cannot tell what or where you will actually end up, so why second guess a future that doesn't exist?

I will be curious to see what that future is...

AFD

[somedaybitch.livejournal.com]

It's a bit easier prolly when you already chased that 'life' and then gave it away to the person who actually wanted it.

to which i can only say...

But if “the end” is what counts above all, why bother with anything.

the path is what matters. not where it leads you. because the destinations always change but the road never does.;)