A long time ago, the fictional persona Werther pondered upon this 'Must it be that all that makes us happy, be also the well of our unhappiness?' And since I first read it, it has been the question I regurlarly yet infrequently sigh over myself.
My year so far has been more like something of a dream. With a job that I am finally really enjoying, exams that went better than expected, new and inspiring friends and classes in art school, even -and I may regret ever confessing to this- some peace of mind that I thought I would never know. Except that the heart is not so calm. It still wants everything.
But what the heart wants, and what the mind thinks is possible are very very far apart. I just wait for an artificial blood pump to become commercially available and then I'll trade mine for its weight in chocolate.
My year so far has been more like something of a dream. With a job that I am finally really enjoying, exams that went better than expected, new and inspiring friends and classes in art school, even -and I may regret ever confessing to this- some peace of mind that I thought I would never know. Except that the heart is not so calm. It still wants everything.
But what the heart wants, and what the mind thinks is possible are very very far apart. I just wait for an artificial blood pump to become commercially available and then I'll trade mine for its weight in chocolate.
