The Synapse and The Slumber

Sunday, September 12, 2004

What to write, what to say, what to let out? Sometimes my writing is pursuant to a specfic train of thought. Other times it is purely a haphazard collection of mental strokes. This is the latter...and it doesn't always last very long.

I love candlelight. I love air-conditioned air that is scented from burnt candle wax. I love long shadows in yellow light.

I've been thinking about how every movement, every revolution, every oppression, every indiscretion is done by real people. Overwhelming actions tend to take on otherworldly characteristics and we can easily associate them with untouchable, inconceiveable entities. But there are people behind these motions, and understanding that makes the amazing more attainable and the horrendous more amendable.

Nearly five years ago, during my freshman year of college, my good friend Tish gave me a stuffed animal named Francis The Lamb (FTL). A girl lamb with boy's name - Francis instead of Frances (I suppose it makes her special). It's been quite a while since I've slept with FTL. The time has come once again.