This is probably going to be a short one. And it pertains to how indescribable (is that the right word?) and unknowable the events of life are. Things can happen that make you rapidly redefine things that you were so pessimistic about. A hope, dimmed due to dust and wear and tear over the years, shines brightly again. You write vague poetic sentences in your LiveJournal.

Happiness. Seems to be a struggle for a friend of mine lately. She seemed frustrated and unhappy, and told me she almost wished she could never second guessed herself, and that she could be ignorant and just be happy with what she had. An example she used was people of faith, who just believed what their faith said without question. She told me they seemed happy.

Things have been become more clear lately. However, at the same time, and I hate to sound like a cliche, they are becoming harder to see. Things that have perplexed me greatly for quite some time are starting to reveal understanding. Even the idea of understanding is starting to make more sense. I think, for some reason, I've been looking for some sort of universal understanding of why things happen to me the way they do, and I'm beginning to understand that all I can get out of any of these events is my own understanding, in terms of myself. And this is slightly comforting.

Well, I'm back in Kingston living with Mr. Gregs and Ankur. So far it's been pretty good, but it's far different living with two people than it is living with five. It's so much quieter and tame. On the other hand, I suppose it's quite conducive to doing work. But what's the fun in that?

Things you want to happen always happen when you least expect them. Without exception, I find this to be the story of my life. If I go out some night and even think idly about some farfetched situation happening, it never happens. I think as soon as I think about the possibility of a given situation taking place, I automatically preclude it from happening. This situation, of course, is only precluded if it would be something positive. If I, for instance, imagined that I did not get raped on a mid-term it unfortunately does not affect the inevitable outcome.

Well I think that settles it. I'm a dick. I think sometimes you can't help it. Sometimes your actions lead you into a situation that has only a few realistic solutions, and all of them are shit. Therefore, even the one you know is the best solution, is shit. Clearly having good intentions doesn't always ensure a desirable outcome. Which makes one wonder: How many of the people you think are dicks, actually are, and aren't just victims of good intentions turned bad?

Well that was quite a weekend. Tiemann, Wyner, Griff, Patten and Kwan came up to Kingston and, as per usual, much debauchery ensued. One might say Saturday Night Debauchery. But anyway, ended up going to the Plaza for the first time in my life and, well, I've re-affirmed why I don't go. First of all, the women aren't attractive. Secondly, I always feel like I shouldn't be looking when the girls start spreading their legs in whatnot. I mean, you're in a social place (a bar) and in any other social situation it's often considered impolite to look at a girl's cootch. Finally, it's totally degrading. I mean, this women is moving in sexual ways and spread eagling and stuff for a bunch of dirtbags just for money. I don't know, it just seems really gross. But then again, I'm not the type that frequents such establishments. At the same time, I'm not say we ban it or anything. It just not for me. As long as the girls aren't being coerced or treated really horribly, there's no real reason why it should be illegal.

Everytime I think I'm close to being sure about how a girl feels towards me, I always find that I actually have no idea. Normally I'd explain, but I don't care to tell right now for specifically the reason as I don't know where I stand at all. Ah well, the world still turns.

This one is short. I recently wrote my not very well liked ex-girlfriend Kathryn a rather neutral e-mail asking for some books back that I lent her.

Television is an incredible medium. I really mean this. True, it can be used for destructive ends, such as the endless advertisement, the conformity its sometimes demands and the brainrot that results from overexposure, but within all that there is an infinite storytelling potential. Don't get me wrong, books have their place and will never be replaced and I would take a desert island full of books over a desert island with a television set anyday, but the point I'm trying to get at is my original sentence. Television is an incredible medium.