Since I don't have anything else to do (54 Comp. I papers to grade, 3 interviews to transcribe) I thought I'd waste some time posting on this infernal machine. Yes, quite the opinion to hold when composing a blog entry AND when studying a field that heralds the supreme nature of all technology!
Although I have an over-abundance of time to fritter away, the thoughts come slowly to my mind. A mind supposedly disciplined to fashion great thoughts about great things. How I'd much rather be in the hearth-side embrace of a roaring fire as the dismissive winds howl through the cracks of cabin walls. What a more fulfilling Friday that would be. Instead of great thoughts about the peculiarities of teaching online, my mind could focus on the great thoughts of the sounds of silent snow falling. Yes, there is a sound ... it's silent, but in the stillness of towering white pines you can hear it. It's a stillness that's always been there and will always be - long after I am gone. It's a stillness that can stop the very beating of your heart, if you let it. It's a stillness that will wrap you up in arms that make you believe you are a child once again. And in this stillness, falling snow has a sound.
Yet, far from this stillness I exist. Far from this stillness in the plastic pandora's box of urbanity.
But, ... if I listen closely, the stillness is still there. Just on the other side of sirens announcing the most recent murder, the screams of yet another female jogger being attacked, the unnerving volume of bad music and cell phone conversations, and the constant drone of pollution-belching vehicular cocoons ... it's there.
Just on the other side. It's calling me home.
