I'm Mac. I mostly just herp the derp as it has never derped before. I post band stuff almost exclusively.. So sit back and watch the train wreck.My Fuck Yeah LTJ Blog OH GOD DON'T LOOK HERE this is a music blog so here is music i like Sloth Ask me awkward questions, receive awkward answer SHOW ME WHATCHA GOT
now returning to your regularly scheduled blogging.
I apologize. I’m at a weird point in my life and an odd feeling has taken hold of me. It’s as if I’m about to make an important decision and I’m reflecting back on every life lesson I’ve learned from those stories that mean so much to me.
Remember in The Call of the Wild when John Thornton dies, and Buck realizes it was his love that held him back from answering the titular call? And he doesn’t mourn. He simply lives. I wonder if you really can’t have both.
Remember in The Dead how Gabriel realizes that not only had he never truly loved his wife, but she had been in love with the man who died for her all those years they had been married? I think about that a lot. I think about what it means to love, what it means to let go, and what it means to be truly and completely dead.
Remember in Siddartha when just as he’s about sink beneath the glassy surface of the very river that he crossed when he was young, he remembers “om”, or a former oneness with the universe that breaks him out of his stupor and leads him to his epiphany? Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be that low, and what word will bring me back.