Arete

The ancient Greeks got a lot of things right. That is at least my humble opinion.

I almost locked

Myself out of our apartment. Cold after a late night walk I realize the horror of thinking that my keys are resting safely within my coat pocket. But as soon as I think this, five minutes walking distance from my front door... The knowledge that they are instead resting treacherously upon my desk next to my computer dawns on me.

Oh the horror the horror of in the next second realizing that I do not have my cell phone on me.

But I am incredibly lucky, at the same time I reach the front gate someone else that I do not know is opening the door. I slip inside, get through the front door and am pleased to see that no one bothered to lock the apartment door.

Perhaps my Karma is picking up, I don't know. Maybe the concept of reversed Karma could be applied here: I have had a mountain of shit dumped on me lately and I really can not think even in my most vile state self disapprobation that I deserve some things. So perhaps some small strokes of luck are due to me to balance the universe out else it implode. Oh the beauty of solipsistic delusions.

Ok

So maybe it was not psychosomatic. I'll not go into detail as to what exactly my body has been doing since the last posts (now don't think it's THAT nasty) but anyway, I feel a lot better after being knocked to sleep for what is almost the equivalent of a full night.

The annoying side of the coin is that I still don't think I am capable of eating, and waking up before 4 in the morning is not exactly a great way to start the last day of your weekend...

Oh well, time will tell how this goes.

I can't tell...

I can't tell whether I am sick or not. I really can not tell. I do not know if the reason the piece of pizza I am very much wanting to get down is hindered by a reflex with its source in an actual infection in my body or if it is just psychosomatic.

This is at once both fascinating and very very scary...

I think I should lie down for a while now.

dot dot and dot

There is pain in this world my child. Sometimes, your body is hurt. You feel nauseas tender and weak. Sometimes, your mind feels sick, you are not yourself and your thoughts goes places where they are discouraged to venture.
Worst of all is when your heart is hurt. When it is pierced by a lightning rod sent flying from the hand of some angry god. The jolts will make you spasm and weep. Finally you will grow numb and existence will feel a trifle thing. Of little importance.

Send me a thought when you are alone, direct your heart to that empty place where you had me stored. Recollect without diluting those drops of emotion that were once so lustrous and rich in the chalice of your heart. May haps that is not possible, to view what once was through the blurring of the time that’s past. We wonder together if it is possible to reconstruct an emotion that has fled. To look with honest eyes upon what was once felt as the imperative of existence.
What can you do then when the reason one once had for breathing now seems so shallow? The well from which once all meaning was drawn seems dry and unsatisfying. Perhaps it was an illusion that it so could have quenched your thirst?
Or is it that appetites change and grow larger with time? Maybe it is not a voluntary thing to grow bored with sipping of the same ambrosia that used to propel you. Tick tock. Time has passed. What was delicious has turned to ash.
Values and emotions are readily pierced by the passage of time. Nothing is ever excused from that.

What is a constant relationship? Can it be kept by two conscious observers constantly judging the value of their interaction? At one point the hatchet must fall, severing the connection or at least breaking a thread from the connecting wire.

Will that be, before the dirge chimes and the justification for feeling is reached?