Life is Stranger than Fiction...

…Because Fiction has to be convincing, and Life doesn't.               -Neil Gaiman

I hereby decide to write another post. Why? Because of all-consuming jealousy, of course. What better reason could there be?

I don't write on serious topics. I shun life-altering truths and other such things. If you ever went through my blog, you'd find very superficial topics; all relevant to me, me, me. And that's good enough, because I use the web to escape from realities, from the world that freaks me out: so much that I wonder if there's a place out there for me at all.

But recently my life online has begun to merge slowly(and not without pain) into my real life. Mostly because I've neglected one in favour of the other.

(That's probably how it should be.)

Real life is painful, but its joys are so much more than the joys of the mind. The full-body-thrumming feeling you get when something goes terribly, terribly right. When someone says something that means a lot, even if it's just a simple thank-you. When you've caused tears and you know they're happy ones. And there's other feelings- when it's early in the morning or the night air is biting at your nose and you hear your heart pounding in your ears as you take a deep breath; you're so happy to be alive.

Even sadness has some undefinable quality: like that feeling after you've had a good cry and you know nothing worse can happen to you. The hurt of words spoken in anger, cutting you to the bone and leaving your inner self exposed to the world.

It's, well, it's all real.

And that is what makes me close my laptop, against all odds, and go out into the big, bad world.

Katze

P.S. I'm beginning to feel like a poet.

P.P.S. Meanwhile, trying to study the reasons English is a world language. Apparently, it's got to do with the English going to almost every country in the world. *shrug*

Also struggling with matrix representations of the Schrödinger equation. Well-balanced workload FTW.