Fears

Things haven't seemed to change so fast for nearly five years. A leap in understanding, but not all of it good. I would go back, even now, if I could.

Going on a lion hunt, and I am afraid. Can't go over it... can't go under it... Gotta go through it...

I flirt with an organizational obsession. My things, my kitchen, my knowledge, my thoughts, my network. Setting all of it in order is calming, but I can't tell if it's good to organize things too much. It strips away the illusion of individuality and infinite capacity. I also wonder, sometimes, if I'm counting bricks to ward off insanity.

I'm not afraid of failure. I'm afraid failure and success are equally meaningless. And I'm afraid of failure, too, a little bit.

I keep trying not to look back. I went down and saw for myself what there was to see and I made my choice. It's not even such a great place, down there, kind of cold and there's just a ledge, a bottomless pit, and a ladder up, and some graffiti too - "Descartz wuz here".

And now I rediscover each thing, a bit different this time. Opposites suddenly seem to have much more in common. I wonder about artists and authority figures and people on the street. Can you tell from looking? Can you smell it? Seems it should leave a mark, doesn't it?

It will take a little bit longer for the sense of darkness to leave my apartment here. But it's going.

What we do not get over, we do, perhaps, get past...