Today’s theme is "the biggest threat is the man who just doesn’t give a shit anymore".

The upheaval, however, leaves an enduring effect. This process changes people into who they are, progress toward who they are to become.

The roots, exposed to the elements by the movement of the water, find their way back into the earth. People act much in the same way.

The turmoil of loss is found in slouched shoulders and weary sighs, but like the blemishes on coasts, these things fade in time.

The persistence of loss can’t be measured. It isn’t the ebb of a tide, there is no erosion, no consistent tell-tale markings.

Then who can really say that monogamy, or even love itself, does not exist in some indelible way within us? Even as instinct, it is valid.

If a man or woman, reaching into their souls, can grab at nothing but memories of a lover amid the swirling detritus of their lives…

It only takes a quick glance at the annals of rock songwriting to assume that monogamy between beasts is not a lie perpetuated upon them.

Sore and exhausted, my men and I mount our horses and sway side to side in silent contemplation. Our kind are not foreign to deep thought.

"Being Dead" didn’t leave me crying, like I expected, but filled me with a welling sorrow, a fear of getting old and dying alone.

Bad timing results in the final chapter of this book going unread, tormenting me across the two hours of class. Curses.

I feel particularly alone today. It’s clawing at me from the inside, bucking against my hold, barking and shouting to be allowed to surface.

I am the blue light scattering itself through the atmosphere. I am the movement of grasses caught between gusts.

I am thousands of supernovae trailing hot gaseous vapors through space. I am solar systems gestating on the rims of the arms of galaxies.

It is so windy here, by the lake, that my car shook and hummed along with it. So strange.

They’re building a Chipotle in La Habra! This is the best news ever.

Why don’t you all ffffff-fu-fade away!

After spending most of yesterday in 36 degree weather, this 70 degree heat feels awful. I am now, officially, a crybaby.

Going to try to spend some of my free time alone. Rubio’s, and then hopefully sit by the lake and finish Being Dead. I hope I can do it.