I haven’t been sleeping well since I got back from Alaska. The time change was easy heading west: All I had to do was stay up late. Coming east wasn’t as easy–it feels like midnight at four in the morning. So today’s fiasco actually began last night: I didn’t get to sleep till five. In the morning.
So waking up at nine? Didn’t happen. Ten? Not even then.
An infinite number of finite moments ago, it was the end of October and I was sitting here, on the other side of your computer screen, writing about the momentous month ahead of us: November. Somehow it’s now December and November is an infinite number of finite moments ago and it feels like I haven’t said a word since.
In a word, it’s been busy–possibly even infinitely busy.
Should I begin at the beginning? I promise, it won’t take me forever.
Once upon a time I met a man, a most spectacular specimen, with a mind as quicksilver and sharp as anybody’s, and we got to talking about philosophy, about truth and belief, what is real and what is merely perception. It was a provocative conversation to all extents of the imagination, and I must admit, perhaps foolishly in so public a forum as this, that the truest way to my heart is kindness and depth, and let me tell you, this man had both.
Then again, such sincerity is hard to feign, so perhaps it’s not so foolishly shared.
Regardless, such a deep conversation got me thinking, what is my personal philosophy? Do I even have one? And after some consideration, or years of consideration if you’d rather go back to when I first began to formulate the postulates of my intensities, I decided I do have a personal requiem of philosophies that I stand by. They are tenets and towers, facsimiles of faith and fiction, the philosophy of the wolf himself.
It’s not often I speak specifically of my beliefs (mostly on account of not truly knowing the words to speak of them rightly most of the time), but today warrants it. I considered letting this day pass lightly, not saying anything but perhaps passing a shrug and a snicker, but as I was doing dishes tonight (please review A is for Action) it occurred to me that not speaking is, in the end, being silent.
And as my contemporaries would say, “You can’t make me silent with violence” (Anna Nalick, “Break Me Open”) and “I will not go quietly! I will not be silenced” (Company of Thieves, “Won’t Go Quietly”). So in their footsteps I follow: No threats will stop me. No words will weaken me. I will not stand silent. I will not stand still.
Those saying the world will end. Well, I take that as a threat.