Monday, november 22nd, 1999
I have not done anything with this webpage in at least six months. Possibly more.
Possibly even along the lines of eight months. Ten months. Eleven months. Not
quite a year. And of course the excuses are the same as ever:
I was seeing this boy
I had too much work
And the boy was too much work
And it had all become a chore, the boy and the work and this webpage, upon
which at one time I spouted myself, the excess of myself with which I had nothing
better to do.
And for this past year there has been none of myself with which I had nothing better
to do, and that was not because there was more to do but because I had less of
And I had stopped understanding my audience. The secret being that to care
about your audience is fatal to showmanship, which was crucial to the present
Now i think, who knows. In six months I will be An Adult. And I have not yet
figured out if there is a way that the adult will be me, or if adulthood by
definition requires that one molts one's inner self. I had a friend who did this,
although for different reasons. She gave up everything worthwhile (or everything
that I once thought was worthwhile) to acheive
mental stability, so that now she is a casualty of herself, and likewise a carcass.
Tomorrow I have a presentation due on the historical background of Lysias'