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THIS IS MY LOT, BEAUTIFUL STRANGERS.
 The wisdom's in the trees, not the glass windows. Cursed, cursed insomnia! That aside, it's been a rather pensive day despite the constant yawning. Perhaps you tend to fill that thought-bank up more easily when you have a throat so sore it irritates badly enough to make you want to just mellow down, and keep all quiet. Haha, interestingly enough, even with this aching throat of mine, the classmates could complain about my voice being heard all the way at the other end of the round-about corridor. We all learn something new everyday don't we? (chuckles) I got upset when they started going on and on about her. It reminded me of my very reason for disliking college then. Now that I don't (and in fact am enjoying myself quite a bit), that reminder was really quite uncalled for. Enough of the ranting and raving on about how terrible, appalling or repulsive she is. If she's that dislikable, be civilised about it and tell her - not anyone else. Whatever happened to patience and mansuetude? Quite plainly, there are no two-sides to being shallow. We're all pretty much flawed- in our own ways. Whether this is an issue of morals or maturity, it really doesn't matter. Ironically, I'm going on and on about them aren't I? I'm still learning to accept people for who they are, even at this very moment. Take a look around people, we're all the same: human in every way. But, that's no excuse; no excuse to do whatever we please, or say we can't change or bring someone else down, no matter how horrible or in-your-face he/she is. If you can be a better someone, work on it. I guess this taught me that no other human of flesh and bone would value anyone else the way a life should be valued. No, I'm not talking about romantic love and all its mush. To put it simply, no one is going to take a bullet for you, no one is going to sacrifice his/her all. I'm but a flower quickly fading, here today and gone tomorrow- just like you are. Now that is precisely why George Herbert wrote 'The Agony', or rather, that is why he had anything to write about at all. "Who knows not Love, let him assay And taste that juice, which on the cross a pike Did set again abroach; then let him say If ever he did taste the like. Love is that liquor sweet and most divine, Which my God feels as blood, but I, as wine." No one but Him i guess? Now, back to my essay on 'passion' due tomorrow morning. TonFlyingHigh!3:54 PM *** |
Behind The Wheel; 
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