Carl Sagan's Pale Blue Dot

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47EBLD-ISyc

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

2 days... 90 minutes of sleep.... and still wanting to think.

Sometimes I feel very sharklike, in that I need to keep moving at all times in order to stay (in this case psychologically) alive. When I have little to do, I desire to do little: when I have much to do, that's when I find the desires to do things more meaningful with the time I have less of, or I find myself looking more closely at my life. So yes... two days ago I was up at 5, then I went to school went to the lab and at 7:30 PM started painting the interior of a house until 6:30 AM. I took a 90 minute nap before returning to school, and after I left the lab that night I went painting again. It's 3:30 AM and I'm physically exhausted. But mentally, I'm needing to for a long hard jog. Within these two days with a 90 minute nap between, I talked to a girl who had went through a very similar breakup to my painful one in September (unapologetic ownership of ex-girlfriend porn and all!). Only she broke up with her ex in the last 2 days... so a lot of the negative feeling...
Read more

Missing.

A bit of free-writing: It takes hold of me most often as my days close down and I begin the long walk home. I do most of my best thinking while walking, at least about these sorts of things. Perhaps it's just the Fall, although it's been there before in the summertime, but not as strong. A context with less interference: Ithaca in Autumn at sunset, and the beauty of it runs me down very quickly. It fails to take hold when there are people around me, but when they go it takes me back... to the point where I no longer seek to surround myself with other people, least of all people who don't feel like home. I guess that's what it like, I feel like I'm locked out of home with curtains drawn. There are people inside, but they can't hear me, and they don't have a sense that I am missing, and try as I might I can't open the door or find my way back. It's not my home anymore perhaps... but it's all I ever had. I feel like I've found a secret beautiful...
Read more

A Solemn and Trivial Hello.

I did a bit of free-writing about some things awaiting me in Ithaca, much of which is a little too personal for this blog, and these excerpts are borderline. But most of you who understand it I trust it with, so here it is: I could easily forget it all, to pretend you are just like any of the rest, until it really is so. But in those other cases, the good could be more easily sifted from the bad, the gifts were a bit more mutual and eternal and the misunderstandings could eventually be nothing more. But the weight of what you did leave me with is much heavier, and the memories would eat me away from the inside even if I did not rehearse them consciously. In the perfect world, I'd still retain you, I'd still cherish you... and nothing but the physical would have to change. But the physical and broken promises is all you left me with, giving me a a bittersweet aversion and attraction to all similar emotions that can come afterwards for others.... for you were a wonderful ...
Read more