A period of pretty severe pathos. My mother is the only one to go unscanthed. We are all edipal engines, tooting up a trail of idiosyncratic steam. It would be nice to abandon it all. And when I am in Chicago, I do. Long live the cult of freedom crafted by individualism; I would be very happy as an island. Too bad it is a fiction. One whose clearly defined downfall will occur in about 50 years. Thank god I am on that trailing wave. Thank god that the wave of American freedom has broke, I prefer to be on the tail end, preparing those for the next one.
I would do anything to stab my personal roots in the face All that stupidity and misery. I need to work this resentment into work ethic. That way I will have more excuses to be away. I will be happy to never visit that house in Gramado. The house is the sanctuary for all the themes that I wish to depose myself of.
One way to depose of that would be to not go home anymore. This would be nice: no place in which to go on vacation; no rest from my quest. No utterly mundane and personal disagreements. Making my own money, it would cut the need for it. But then again, thank for letting me get to this point. For that I love you. With a love that seeks to supercede.
Into a sanctuary.
Truly a sanctuary.
My sanctuary.
Our sanctuary.
OMG I need to get into graduate school.
