Day 197

I feel so poorly read. Sometimes I wander through the bookstore - especially the non-fiction sections - and marvel at the sheer volume of subjects about which I know nearly nothing. And of course, it is always a task to sift through frivolity rather than get caught up in it. We live in a world engorged by ravenous and short-lived temptations and excesses, but also a world of deep and tightly bounding repressions of thought and perspective. I find it troubling to exit myself from the enormous set of presuppositions I've been brought up to found my beliefs upon. My hope is to exit from as many presuppositions as possible, and return only to the ones I choose for myself.

What I do know is that music is and always be a close friend, with all the endearments, little tretcharies, reconciliations, and loud-but-unsung harmonies that go along with friendship.

The written word is also a dear friend. I hope very much to expand my vocabulary so that I may better express myself someday.

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