if it were up to you we'd all wear refrigerator watches

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[rumi]:
let the lover be disgraceful, crazy, absent-minded.
someone sober will worry about events going badly.
let the lover be.


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[watching all the speeding cars moving like you wish you could]

only one more week of schooling for me.  and then tests and walks in snows and gingerbread homes and twirlingtwirlingtwirling 'cause it's winter and i'm going to a masquerade.

my brain has been hiphopping between so many thoughts and things.  like: what does it mean to live here in this place where i am technically-but-not-truly poor?  and where lots of people are for real impoverished?  like: how do i know what i want and what is good and what is wise for me and the difference between the three?  is there for sure a difference between the three?

and how much sudoku is too much sudoku?

so those are my questions.  i am being ambiguous and lame as bloggers do, but it's what i am in the mood for.  i am in the mood for racing around and rolling in mud puddles and asking questions unending.  and yesterday i was in the mood for pineapple chicken and fashion shows and icecream and i got all three.  i think i am in the mood for taking what i want and enjoying it entirely.



you can never have too much sudoku.

tummies are hurting and minds and pretty much all my insides, actually.  my feet are doing okay, and my legs are less twitchy than average, so i guess i shouldn't complain.  but really, inside pains are kindof worse than outside pains, don't you think?

i say that now, only because my outsides are relatively wound-free.

i was thinking yesterday about what to do with all my journals and writings and things from the years.  i'm considering burning them [or maybe the less-dramatic garbage-disposal...mm, recycling-disposal].  i feel like maybe i will want them some time.  maybe i will like to look back on days gone by and reflect about how i have felt, what i have done, who i have loved.  but then i think, what if i am killed in some horrific turn of events before i have had a chance to properly dispose of them?!?!  it seems unlikely to me that whatever immediate family member [be it spouse, parent, sibling, whomever] given the job of sorting through my stuff would be able to resist taking at least a peek.  and i don't want any peeking.  i want my secret pasts to be lost and erased and i would also be very ashamed of all those stupid little weaknesses being exposed without my permission.

"As interest grew in serving in India, Tucker prepared a memorandum of instruction to all new candidates for service in India (they came by the hundreds), and St. John Ervine considers it one of the most heroic documents of mankind:

Service will be a matter not merely of being willing to go anywhere, but of wishing to live and die for the particular race to which you are sent. You will be absolutely alone and under close scrutiny. It will be essential to learn at least one Indian language. You must leave entirely and forever behind you all your English dress and habits. Officers will be barefoot. You will avoid the English quarter, but will always live among natives – sometimes in a cave, a shady tree, or someone’s veranda – or in a mud hut 16 by 10 feet. You will cook as they do, and wash your clothes in the stream with them. You have nothing to fear from the climate. The people are different and intensely religious. . .

Find out what their thoughts are before you share yours.

And if you are planning to return, don’t go.

We would not think of sending anyone out who did not plan to make it a life work."