this is a test

this is a slideshow

I find myself getting colder and more reserved with every last-minute blow of 2.22. i find myself looking at my philosophies and expanding to fit them again, like when i first established them. i find myself mourning and being grateful anything existed beautifully enough for me to mourn.

Cosmos by Carl Sagan

Twice in the past year, i've brought myself to tears holding individually-purchased copies of newspapers and magazines, thinking about how i once i get a stable address i'll be able to finally be able to get a subscription, thus saving money and trips to the stores i can't stand to walk in anymore. Every few months (and sometimes every few weeks, depending on the heat of the time) i find myself needing to come up with new routes of escape. I'm not talking metaphorically or metaphysically, i am speaking literally- too often do the terms and conditions of my life's foundation quake and threaten to cleave themselves into innumerable halves. Looking in the mirror i see resigned disappointment, having learned the unfortunate lesson that the safest path is, regrettably, what i've always chosen to follow. With hindsight and another number of harsh quakes likely coming together to cleave, i can't really help but wonder if it's punishment for choosing what's easiest. That being the probable case, i'm resigned to expecting these torments four times a year until i'm able to shed all my fears, all my connections to the social, familial, and financial restraits that keep me hog-tied.

this is somethin 7 slides long