Somber

September 13, 2006

Right now, I’m in a somber mood. Things are good; things are bad; I don’t even know anymore. I’m doing more things than ever; and yet my life is slipping away with nothing to show for it. In tandem with a confidence of my place with God, I feel a sense of distance from spirituality or faith. Always, there sits that nagging, “Is this it?” behind my thoughts. A profound alienation and feelings both of incredible luck, and having missed my destiny collide in an indistinct watercolor of images and feelings, which I can’t sort out. Coupled with this is an ache, an intellectual assurance of my inability to know the end and meaning of my life. It’s more a cold cup of weak tea than the bitter draught of fortune, but it chills me no less for it.

It may gratify those antagonists among my readership to know that I still have not completely unraveled the mystery behind the pontification of Les Miserables. I slogged through the slough of despair, braved the boredom of byzantine remarks on post-Resoration French politics, even endured Hugo’s ADD-like foray into self-indulgent Parisian nationalism. Right now the question is: will Marius fire the shot, or not?

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