Creatures of a Day

Continuing with the list/bulletin format because I’m incapable of putting recent events into coherent entries:

  • made some blueberry jam today, was nice and plump and gooey
  • did some strange dance/cardio/exercise routines with lily. jumping jacks for four minutes uninterrupted=yikes.
  • I was looking at a piece of cursive writing from ninth grade, and it’s entertaining to see how my handwriting has evolved from a sharp, meticulous style to a slightly messier yet more natural one (and I’ve finally found a way to breeze past those pesky ‘r’s and ‘z’s).
  • I’ve been crying over this song for the past few days. (Don’t get me started on Lexa and lost opportunities and gentle hearts).
  • reading parts of Irvin D. Yalom’s Creatures of a Day: “Given the choice between living and examining, I’d choose living any day.” “Death, suicide: they aren’t abstract thoughts. Not any longer. They’re real.” “What I’m trying to say is that Sergei was part of that magical time of youth, and because he was there at that time you imbued him with love—that is, you put the love into him.”
  • The epigraph to go with the book: “All of us are creatures of a day; the rememberer and the remembered alike. All is ephemeral—both memory and the object of memory. The time is at hand when you will have forgotten everything; and the time is at hand when all will have forgotten you. Always reflect that soon you will be no one, and nowhere.” —Marcus Aurelius, The Meditations

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