I don't know what I'm thinking about.
This evening I walked in the dark down Old Main hill. I saw the Temple's twin spires glowing like moons between the trees on the hill while ahead of me the whole valley peeked at me through tiny pricks of streetlamps and brake lights. There were stars. Behind me, Orion lay flat like a falling man, though he was rising from behind the mountains.
We watched Vertigo last night. It's hard to say what is eeriest about that movie, but ultimately what frightens me the most is James Stewart's obsession that leads to the real death of his artificial love.
Today in class, I was wondering if it was all worth it. I looked out over the heads bent over their writing and saw a tree wrapped in a frozen yellow fur of leaves shed a golden tear like a snowflake, which fluttered down to join a field of scattered embers.
It all feels so hopeless sometimes.
