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subscribeFriday, December 26
Dear friend,
As I prepare to go skiing, here is an ego boost I just got. I looked up a word that my friend Jeff used to describe me, mensch: A person having admirable characteristics, such as fortitude and firmness of purpose: "He radiates the kind of fundamental decency that has a name in Yiddish; he's a mensch" (James Atlas). I can see myself in that, but fuck, I wish things would be easy to achieve. You know, so my fortitude would not be tested so much.
Yours,
As I prepare to go skiing, here is an ego boost I just got. I looked up a word that my friend Jeff used to describe me, mensch: A person having admirable characteristics, such as fortitude and firmness of purpose: "He radiates the kind of fundamental decency that has a name in Yiddish; he's a mensch" (James Atlas). I can see myself in that, but fuck, I wish things would be easy to achieve. You know, so my fortitude would not be tested so much.
Yours,
Ultramodern Antique 2.0
Tuesday, December 23
My oldest friend I haven't seen in years, Mr. Jeff, will soon have a blog here with pictures. I shudder at the effect this will have on my blog. Perhaps it will turn a whiter shade of pale in comparison.
Sunday, December 21
Dear friend,
I am sick again, sick from stress, sick from a 99.5 fever. Should have gotten a flu shot. One of my best, Rob, is in town, but I need to rest. The gang had a business meeting over a few pitchers of Oklahoma beer-water and plotted the New Years plans. I won't make that either. But I will be in Vail, skiing with some beautiful people. My mom just felt my forehead, after I refused apple pie a la mode. That was worth a smile.
- I worry about school, often, and pervasively. They asked me if I had difficulty with writing. Betrayed, I felt. I have gained confidence in myself. I have forgotten to follow the Way. Maybe it is all a part of my path. Or, perhaps, I am being brought back to that part of the path which I have of late denied.
- Maybe I'll rest. Or see Rob. Or email Jeff or Matt. He says hello, I hear. Or maybe I'll sleep. And angels visit. Maybe I'll rest. Something tells me I may not be ready to do that yet...
Yours,
I am sick again, sick from stress, sick from a 99.5 fever. Should have gotten a flu shot. One of my best, Rob, is in town, but I need to rest. The gang had a business meeting over a few pitchers of Oklahoma beer-water and plotted the New Years plans. I won't make that either. But I will be in Vail, skiing with some beautiful people. My mom just felt my forehead, after I refused apple pie a la mode. That was worth a smile.
- I worry about school, often, and pervasively. They asked me if I had difficulty with writing. Betrayed, I felt. I have gained confidence in myself. I have forgotten to follow the Way. Maybe it is all a part of my path. Or, perhaps, I am being brought back to that part of the path which I have of late denied.
- Maybe I'll rest. Or see Rob. Or email Jeff or Matt. He says hello, I hear. Or maybe I'll sleep. And angels visit. Maybe I'll rest. Something tells me I may not be ready to do that yet...
Yours,
Faith or The Extent of Human Devotion
New York Times: "I'm a Buddhist believer. Walking around the Qinghai Lake is the equivalent of reciting 18 hundred million mani prayers. I do not know how many prayers prostrating oneself is equal to... In the beginning, my whole body hurt, especially my arms and knees were ripped to shreds, but eventually the pain went away. And my mind filled with the willingness to make my children's future happy."
I think this is beautiful.
