Cleansing

In ownership, there is pride in the physical things that one acquires. There is pride in the beauty, or the function, or the simplicity. Eventually, pride in other things seems to go away. Pride in one's ability to play guitar, or in one's ability to be the best chess player on the block. They are replaced by pride in physical things.

But what happens when those physical things are altered? What happens to your pride, and your sense of worth, when the physical things you loved, and were prideful of, are no longer worthy of even a second glance.

Today, I removed the remains of the couches that I once loved, and dragged them, without ceremony, to the end of my driveway, to be taken away by the township folk who collect things no longer loved. I loved them because they were fuzzy, and green, and we'd sat on many couches before finding that particular type. There were some minor tears in the fabric, sure, on the underside, but the upholstery was practically new. Unless you count the dribbles of cat urine that have since detroyed them.

Let me not sound too bitter. I assure you, I am.

Today was a complete waste. I woke up without feeling the urge to do much at all, and though I tried to study a few times, I couldn't find my rhythm. I attribute this to the frantic comings and goings of my fiancee, who, when she is in a hurry, becomes simply intolerable. I prefer to lock myself in a room when she is thus preoccupied and only come out when she's gone.

She took one of the kittens with her to work this evening for adoption, and evidently that bit of things went well enough. Numbers were exchange, promises were made, and the kitten will be coming back here for another few days until the customers are ready to take delivery.

Personally, I don't like splitting up pairs of cats. Anyone who has ever owned cats will tell you that they belong in pairs! Pairs! Pairs! Pairs! That is how they get along best, and how you prevent them from otherwise destroying your home. They tend to be far too busy destroying each other to take much note of the expensive things you might have lying about.

I have several hundred pounds of books that have no more use to me, and they are also impossible to donate because of their topics. Where does one actually go to dispose of a thousand pounds of books? It's really amazing how difficult this process is, and I will let you know more about what I discover in the coming days.

For now, that is all. Remember...

Introductions

Let us begin simply. I am Ganellon, and you are my audience, real or imaginary.

My intention here is to reclaim what has been lost. In battling a particularly insidious illness, both my mental and physical abilities have suffered substantially. Symptoms of this illness include memory loss and difficulty concentrating. Words often escape me, and I stop talking mid-stream because I simply can't produce the word that was trying to fall out of my mouth. I hope that writing my thoughts down will help me in some way, and I am going to write those thoughts here.

I am much more hopeful about my mental recovery than I am about my physical recovery, and while I have no expectation that either will come to fruition, I am making an effort. The priority I place upon my intellectual recovery should come as no surprise. What use is a physical body without a mind to compel it to worthwhile pursuits? Much more worthy is the mind that functions at a fantastic level, even when trapped in a body that is useless. It is with this conviction that I have undertaken to reeducate myself in areas where I was formerly versed.

I will not bore you with the details of my study, but will say the topics are numerous, and of classical origin. With the rudiments again in hand, the rest will hopefully find a natural place in my recollections, and I might regain some of my former self.

For now, I will say no more. Rest, friend. The days ahead are long.