three (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
threeplusfire) wrote2002-10-22 06:17 pm
threeplusfire) wrote2002-10-22 06:17 pm
how you sparkle, how you smile
I have email from an Italian fellow I met in Brno. I am jealous of my European friends, simply because they get to spend so much more time traveling than I do.
I'm watching Suspicion, a fantastic Hitchcock film with Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine. The scene design of these old movies pleases me in some deep way I have yet to figure out. Cary Grant makes a creepy villian here. "Oh, what a bore."
Went to the grocery store, and picked up anchovies and pasta, both of which I've been craving madly for days now. It's been quiet today. Just me, and the house, and the sound of the dryer as I type away. It's been grey and cool. Early this morning, it hailed around town. The cold pleases me as well. I am also as cool as Gita now, with my nifty icon.
A fierce discussion on what makes a person, and whether or not there's some essential self to a human drifted by this afternoon. What a strange question. I believe one can build a sort of essence, something that shimmers through all incarnations of self. But I don't believe it comes pre-packaged, or that everyone is in possession of such a thing. People are mutable, transient creations, in my book. We shift faster than light. The only genuine difference is the degree of control we have over that process. I wouldn't trade any of my shapeshifting friends for solid constructs.
It never ceases to amaze me how joyless some people are. Certainly, I am often terribly serious and fretful. It's a habit I have yet to out grow. But, despite this, I do try to catch the small smiles and things that sparkle. They make life worthwhile.
I'm watching Suspicion, a fantastic Hitchcock film with Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine. The scene design of these old movies pleases me in some deep way I have yet to figure out. Cary Grant makes a creepy villian here. "Oh, what a bore."
Went to the grocery store, and picked up anchovies and pasta, both of which I've been craving madly for days now. It's been quiet today. Just me, and the house, and the sound of the dryer as I type away. It's been grey and cool. Early this morning, it hailed around town. The cold pleases me as well. I am also as cool as Gita now, with my nifty icon.
A fierce discussion on what makes a person, and whether or not there's some essential self to a human drifted by this afternoon. What a strange question. I believe one can build a sort of essence, something that shimmers through all incarnations of self. But I don't believe it comes pre-packaged, or that everyone is in possession of such a thing. People are mutable, transient creations, in my book. We shift faster than light. The only genuine difference is the degree of control we have over that process. I wouldn't trade any of my shapeshifting friends for solid constructs.
It never ceases to amaze me how joyless some people are. Certainly, I am often terribly serious and fretful. It's a habit I have yet to out grow. But, despite this, I do try to catch the small smiles and things that sparkle. They make life worthwhile.
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This nifty man did it for me. I felt like I needed to be an anime girl for a time.
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I would agree.
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Have to agree on the soul thing. Most of my friends are shapeshifters; I think it's a dimensional thing.
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Yeah, now what is up with this dimensional crossover? I can't tell which one I'm in half the time. Egads.