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Meaning of life? 42. :: [2008-11-22] @ [8:59 p.m.]
I changed the layout. Something simple and easy. I like dark themes because it is easier on my eyes.
I know no one really reads here, and frankly, I never update here that often. I'm tempted to go back to my livejournal and update there. But I haven't updated over there in a year. I do want to write in my main diary but I don't know what I would write there. I think that is the purpose of this little space on the web, for writing nothing.
Nothingness. Like space. Space, the final frontier...
That is copyright you know.
I should be working right now. I had the day off from my catering job. I tried to take advantage of it by working on my papers. I maybe got a page written so far. Know what sucks? I make lists. I love making lists for some reason. I have post-it notes covering my walls around my desk of lists.
Yet I can bring myself to do nothing right now. I have no motivation even though the desire to see my papers done, get into grad school, and live to fight another day is clearly there. Why can't I bring myself to act upon it then?
My hands are freezing. My feet feel like ice. And know what? I love it. I don't care what the calender says. I feel that winter is here.
Sometimes I need to find that happy spot. Usually it is a beach in the Outer Banks right at sunrise. I have my feet and hands in the sand and the sand is still cool from the night before, but is slowly warming up as the orange sun gets higher. The swells are small and breaking against the shore. A few gulls screaming, pretending to be rosters, as they float above.
Other times, when I am freezing in my bedroom of my apartment, I think of the fields at home. I live in the middle of nowhere when I am home. There are a bunch of soybean fields around us and our few neighbors. I have more than enough memories, especially in high school, walking down my road in a huge military issued overcoat in the dark. The road has no street lights. But that doesn't matter because the moon is out, and better yet, it is a full moon. With the full moon, it is enough see seem like day. You can see everything. I love it especially when there is fog rolling across the fields. The fog catches the moonlight so it looks like ghostly specters moving slowly with no destination. But the moon. The moon is right above the treeline at the edge of the field, brighter than ever. The stars too. Multiple little dots to connect like I used too as a child and make the constellations people centuries ago made stories of. And I will just stand there, bathed in the nightlight of the moon, trying to stay warm, my breath coming out in huge puffs like I've been smoking a pack of cigarettes. Even though I am freezing, losing feeling in my fingers, I am happy and relaxed.
I need to get back to work.