Beautiful morning but I'm not in it. Cut a path to work but I can't recall it. There was a park, there were roads, there was a man waiting for an ambulance, held up by those around him next to a taxi on Collins.
He is probably thinking about what is important. I am thinking about what is important. What is important will hold me around the neck until I leave this place and get back on the train and walk back through the streets of my suburb, on a path I won't really recall, to be with my family.
I won't enjoy my coffee this morning. I am now waiting for news, and won't enjoy my coffee until I have that news.
It's about what's important.
Later... I have drifted through the work day, responding to people with most of my mind in another place. My stomach muscles have been tense, hunching me forward. I'm that way now. The news is we wait a day or so for news, which leaves me in a void. I need to go home, hold those who are important to me.
I want to reify life itself and violently attack it.
Later still... we held each other, reflected on our fortunes. Resolved to be grateful for the big things we have, rather than resentful of the little things we don't. I put care into the steaks, they were only slightly overdone. Got out the good glasses, sipped something nice, slowly. The TV just blurred away in the background.
I will savour every moment, I promised the fates, I will not be ungrateful.
Homesteading - In my final post on Locke’s theory of appropriation/expropriation, a while back, I mentioned that his latter-day successors, Nozick and Rothbard didn’t off...
16 hours ago