The Good Ship Argo

My fair readers, I greet you kindly.

Somehow I know not what to write today. There was so much I wanted to tell you, but I am stuttering as my fingers are still, unable to form the things I wished to say. I feel like an adventure should be at hand soon. I wish to go somewhere, a place with history. A place to loose myself in the moment. See, I come to realize that I am rather boring. I have the same routine, which runs like clockwork. I see the same people in the same places. It is all very comfortable... too comfortable. I do give thanks for my mother in these times, who does what she can to think of me in the little ways like getting the soda only I like, or bringing me home leftovers. She is a kind woman. Speaking of women I almost wrote about them recently, not in a negative or positive light but rather in a historical mythologic retrospective sort of way. The role of women and the ideas of femininity in myths is, dare I say, even more interesting than the portrayal of masculinity. This does in fact relate to my life in one way or another. See first, in conjunction with women and realizing that I am boring, I fear that the wonderful young lady I have spoken of for the past few months, bless her soul, will never actually care about me or even make time for me. Granted this was exactly what I asked, that she not go out of her way to make time for me. And so with a smile and a laugh I say that it is my loss, to have gained exactly what I asked for, but not what I wanted. But she is a good person, and not even slightly sarcastically do I say that I hold no ill will towards her and will be glad to simply continue to be a friend. Also related, while in the car ride back from the park with my brother the other day, I read the original story of Beauty and the Beast. Now I'm not talking Cupid and Psyche, as I have read and translated that before, but I am speaking of the french version by Mme Jeanne-Marie Le Prince de Beaumont (ok so this was the second original version, whatever). I have always loved this story, and reading one of the earliest french versions is both moving and comical. But let me be the first to say that like my Russian, my French is not good, that and the story was only a few full pages long. I sympathize with this story. I am ugly and stupid, and I wish a kind virtuous beauty would help me to become more than that which I am...


Lord, thank you for the rain.