I hate being angsty, but it happens sometimes I suppose.
I was thinking the other day about how I'm fairly optomistic, and I can't imagine why people would waste so much of their lives worrying and complaining. But, with all the blessings I have, how can I not be happy? I can't even begin to understand the lives of people who have been deformed from birth, or live in a nation ravaged by war and genocide, or have had their whole lives uprooted by a natural disaster. And then I almost feel guilty sitting there and thinking about it. It's hard to get your mind around. Then the big questions come up, and I just want them to go away ;_;.
Here is the place where I am to ramble about life and love and languages. You'll probably encounter some quasi-anthropological ranting and a lot of wanderlust. I do try not to be too emo, and occasionally throw in things of worldly interest, so stop by and read if you have a few minutes. :)
Whom to Know
- Elindomiel
- I'm a university student who likes languages, literature, and having friends from all over the world.
Blog Archive
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2005
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September
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- My Tootsie
- A First
- Where now the Horse and the Rider?
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- I will surely
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- A Week of Snapshots
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- The Kinslaying of Aqualonde
- Fixation Ending Slowly
- Water is a thing that must Flow
- Tidbit
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- River
- A Matter of Trust
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September
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2 comments:
yeah i totally know what you mean... like i'll be sitting here complaining about how much work i have to do, but then i stop and think "hey. i'm going to school. how many kids out there aren't?"
*Nods* Complaining is even more that way, but even when Im happy, I'm all like, Well of course youre happy, youre a fat happy a**hole.... ;_; Alright, maybe thats a tad harsh. And I'm not fat... :P
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