It Is Written

"When a man expects anything to happen, nothing can surprise him. When a man expects nothing to happen, anything can become a pleasant surprise." - T.O. Hob

We play this game again in the dwindling hours of our collective consciousness. Soon we drop off, finding new ways to express ourselves, or retreating back into our old guises of cold and aloof cogs in the mechanics of society.

There is no light...we run on.

But there is...something.

Today it is the fact that I fell asleep last night thinking of reassuring words and grandiose speeches meant to stoke fires and rouse a little rabble. Last night I went to sleep thinking of how cold I was going to be soon.

I've been kicked around an awful lot in the past year. On the day I started this blog I said it would only run for the last few months of college and straight through the summer. I've overshot that a bit for my own personal reasons but I know that in a few weeks I'll be faced with a decision. Do I keep this going? Can I?

I've told most of the stories I ever meant to tell and while there are always new ones, they aren't always interesting. Were they ever?

With college now in the rear view and an uncertain and unfullfilling life coming up on the horizon I have to buckle down and decide how to play the hand I've been dealt. Decide how to get what I want. Decide how to not be alone, but still be myself.

It's getting harder and harder to harness the emotion I used to be able to draw some sort of defiant strength from.

It's just getting colder and darker, quicker and quicker.

So here we go...staring down the sunset and wondering what's next. Wondering where I'm going when I'm still trying to figure out where I came from.

I've done it before and I'll do it again. I'll write about today...

"It was a good day. Not spectacular in any particular way, but pleasant in every little way. He said the right things, saw the right people, and when he closed his eyes at night he knew he'd done right by the world...and the world had done right by him. It was a rare day, of the sort that makes life worth living."

Never would have guessed I could still be an optimist, would you?

Last night was full of dreams, both old and new. A night where my inner demons stood up on their soap boxes and shouted me down as both a saint and a sinner. It was odd how many people appeared in my dreams last night, how I interacted with them, how they didn't just pass through. Odd in a way I'm getting used to. One of those little dream vignettes reminded me of something I imagined Hob once said. Fucking A', it's Tuesday.

"You know what kid, you win half the battle just by showing up." - T.O. Hob