if you hate a person you hate something in him that you see in yourself. what isnt part of ourselves doesnt disturb us.

herman hesse

i cannot tell where it started nor when it will finish as the middle of my life passes by, but i do feel the winding down to a life i never quite held onto. from the start to the end I was never stoic but lived a more epicurean life, searching for pleasures and avoiding anything that might cause callouses. like floating downstream, only on small occasions pushing back against the stream carrying me down the river, i have coasted most the time. things have come until they did not, then i changed direction.

it helps when you can be content with the way the world is. i try to care less, to lower the bar. to not get caught up on the details of things, although this is much harder to do then type. but what are you to do with discontent other then be smothered by it? like everything else it keeps passing, each event and problem and position constantly changing. a musical chairs of emotions, events and positions you keep playing with yourself and the few who surround you. one of the many games that are played. the one where my game is more important then yours is the one i like to watch most.

as you stand on a mountain peak and look around, sit in a perfect temperature bath or go just far enough on a date you realize there is no holding on. there is no saving the moment, the item, the time. you can remember back to it, snap a photo of it, but never quite get back to the perfect moment that once was. this is the same on the other side, where things are not right, falling apart or in the fog. a pinnacle swinging back and forth, round and round, rings of a tree, hands on a clock, pages in a book. woven and twisted in our own way for our own self to be amazed at or disappointed with.