The Train is Leaving

(Enters with soapbox)
The computer at work is officially diagnosed as sick, offically.

With that out of the way.

Went out and purchased the series of Mission Hill on Sunday and watched a few episodes. Last night I watched the Real World episode. Quite the classy show, I'll say. "You're Andy's uncle? Shut Up! My mom's brother is my uncle!!!"

That's such a great line. It's the new version of, "My cat's breath smells like cat food."

Moving to more seriousness.

I think that spring in Madison makes me want to be a Buddhist. It seems like it happens every time I'm here. Perhaps it's more closely related to the fading feelings of being from somewhere else and not wanting to be in Madison.

Although, it does put a profound perspective on sitting in the opulent lobbies of national law offices, waiting for some attorney to get his papers. Does this world need legal documents? Does this office need teak furniture and a glass waterfall? Do I need to be here? The answer is always, know.

But Patience is virtuous in the manner that all permenence can be given up to a life of freedom. I was reading this last night and it made me think that if I ever ended up like that man, I would not deserve to live. My self is not defined by the mountains that I perceive to be my own. The self is and always will be the element that can continue on without, or rather, the self is that which is necessary and the rest is only "junk."

(stepping down off of soapbox)