The return of my family to me--fall break--and the potential of seeing those I hold very dear again soon--my sister returns this month & my brother will see my campus in all the fading verdual glory it retains throughout the month. I love living in the South, where the spring and summer are eight months long and late months of the year are still beautiful, still entrancing.
I think about nature so much lately. A bird knocked into the glass of my window recently, mistaking my room for a good place to hunt for something, I guess. I was afraid that the bird was injured, but it just looked at the window after shaking itself off a bit, looking a little angry and a little dizzy. Leaning out the window over the ten-foot drop, I chirped.
Contact with dear friends resumes! A mistake in an email address (stupidity abounds) sent all my letters to a friend of mine to some netherworld of lost e-mails; I presume a bored devilish clerk in e-hell is reading over my wasted poetic words. Some friends had forgotten me, some knew me but had forgotten my essence, and some longed for essence over distance (I know I was aching for theirs). A few friends are new. And I don't deserve them.
There's an oddity of my spiritual life--I combat the pride of the existential human who knows no limits with the law of society in my head, the ethics of culturally-influenced behavior in my heart, the calm of my non-denominational meditation, and the Machiavellian hypocricy of my tongue. Don't ever believe me, ever. A favor of advice from me, to you. No! I also do myself a disservice; suspension of belief is required of everything I tell you to read here. So believe what you may; this is the best of all possible worlds.
But, gentle reader, I digress.