filling in ( temporarily) for Chuck at Dabar, thinking about Heidegger and art- well, trying to. trying to care about it. Thinking about endings, dreams and plans and futures that do not so much die as wither, fade, dwindle into quiet nothing. Thinking i should feel something. Thinking about regrets ....things done that might have been better not to, things not done that might have made some difference. Wondering whether some deaths, some endings are inevitable and contained, hidden within even their beginnings, or whether different choices could have led to different endings, whether certain choices can ever be undone, certain words unsaid- whether it matters. Whether i should still think about this, should still care. I feel a large part of time and energy for a significant period of my life has been spent on a lost cause, fighting, denying inevitabilty, refusing to accept a 'reality' that i saw clearly long ago, trying to will an impossible situation to be something else, all in the name of not "quitting" not running away, in the name of the lost cause, the faint chance, the unlikely hope... and a sense of duty, that i could still give something, i could still help. That something might be redeemed. But i'm not helping any more- i'm a weight. I have been in this place before - fighting the wrong fight, loyal to the doomed.

I know this is good. Things are stabilizing, returning to 'normal', returning to the way they should be. I have been diffused- i am slowly pulling in what had gone out from me, slowly oozing back into a whole, back into myself, or something like the self i remember, the one i used to know. The rebellion against that stability has completely run out of steam. I am back in familiar territory. That should be good, i think. I'm just trying to remember, now that it seems i may no longer hide from this... did it always feel so empty?