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under_control
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» rocks
"Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty." Some days I wish I had a job that involved smashing big rocks into smaller rocks with an iron hammer. This is what prisoners once did. It seems fitting work for me now, somehow. This week I'm off work. I'm preparing to travel a bit, alone. I've never done that before. Driving more or less aimlessly, alone for days. I don't really expect anything to come of it. I might get some writing done, but more likely than not I will hardly set pen to paper. I'm afraid that I'm hoping for too much. This will not be a mystical journey. This is just me driving alone in a rented car through Nevada and Arizona. If I can just get some relaxation out of this trip, it will be worth it. In the meantime, before I leave, I have mostly pleasant errands to run. I have new and exciting friendships to persue. I have free time and nothing is required of me. I suspect that this is how life really ought to be.
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diaryland |