greetings friends-
Perhaps it is in my complete hautiness that I care not to believe that my present relapse of blogging should consequently produce a lack of audience. The front stairs of our house are being redone, leaving our Shabbos guests to come through the alley way (I must say I am completely cured of my fear of moon-maddened cats clawing my eyes from garbage cans) and our spontaneous guests braving the obstacle course. Later today it rained (as my left knee had earlier predicted) and poured with plenty of thunder and lightning. brilliant rain storm. Now that we've covered weather I must say that life as of late has been uncannily dull, though commitments tend to do that I suppose :) not much of which to update and I am afraid I am in the wrong mood to be clever or offer any brilliant observations. I do apologize for my lack of phone calling, much of that is due, not to overburdened scheduling but to the fact that I had misplaced my phone for a few days. (and thankfully found it). Thursday finals conclude (I jump with jubilation) and although they are not terribly difficult they do require hours and hours of review (Friday alone was Aristophanes, Euripides, Thucydides, Plato, and Sophocles). So playdates are temporarily on hold. Rose and I are somehow still planning our trip (well booking a ticket anyway) which should be absolutely amazing. Okay, I will waste no more needless words on the great circle of thought that is my life in regard to my exam on Monday on 18th century poetry I am suggesting the read of Pope's "Eloisa to Abelard" (scandoulsly breathtaking) I am quite partial to it, and I think it reads lovely.
I, therefore, purpose not or dream,
Descanting on his fate,
To give the melancholy theme
A more enduring date,
But Mis'ry still delights to trace
Its semblance in another's case.
No voice devine the storm allay'd,
No light propitious shone,
When, snatch'd from all effectual aid,
We perish'd, each, alone;
But I, beneath a rougher sea,
And whelm'd in deeper gulphs than he.
With that dear friends I bid you fair night.
I, therefore, purpose not or dream,
Descanting on his fate,
To give the melancholy theme
A more enduring date,
But Mis'ry still delights to trace
Its semblance in another's case.
No voice devine the storm allay'd,
No light propitious shone,
When, snatch'd from all effectual aid,
We perish'd, each, alone;
But I, beneath a rougher sea,
And whelm'd in deeper gulphs than he.
With that dear friends I bid you fair night.
posted by HindiK at 10:50 PM
3 Comments:
who was abelard? wasnt he some christian theologan of some sort?
hey hunny, i have been a bit absent from your blog but now i am returning with one of my own!! yay check it out. i'm so glad to see you still have playdates. I never had any... feel free to set one up. As for the weather here, it's been gorgeously gorgeous, I spent the last two days in the real OC (I always kid myself that I live there, when honestly HB is so the edge, while Tustin is bona fide) and it was beyond stunning - I'm too lazy to get a thesaurus. With that covered, I'll tell you that I'm going home very soon so if you want to come visit me you don't have much time, run run run triple T! I mean run forrest. The Triple T reference will have to remain with your Aussie viewers only. Luv ya hun. xx me
in regard to Realist or Cynic-
i am not sure if we always has a choice to let go or hang on. I guess this is similiar to the question if one truly possess free choice or is all essentially predetermined? I argue that we do have free will. i believe that we always have a choice. personally i think that life throws many a curve ball...sometimes we are so overwhelmed with existence we drown in ourselves...even if we are standing on solid ground...who's better off?? ultimately both men die... yet one gave into the overwhelming sorrow of life while the other you took his dying breath knowing that he did "not go gently into that good night"...
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