2004-06-16
If There Were but One Star...
This is yet another wonderful day at Georgetown. Last night, after staying in the library doing part of my research, it began to lightly rain.
I walked out onto those red-brick pathways drenched in mist, with the gothic cathedral tops looming above me and cutting the dense fog around which permeated the night sky.
There was indeed a soft light from the moon shining down upon me on this tranquil evening, and I began to recall many things as I heard my own quiet footsteps tread lightly through the street.
I was overwhelmed by this amazing and incurable pathos all of a sudden, and taken aback by the self-pity I had sometimes. Here, however, there exists no such thing, and one may engage in contemplations without having the soul partake in such superfluous emotion. Beatufil spring flowers came to life in my mind, and the gentle cracking of my enfeebled voice as I hummed a sad tune in order to quiet my sobs. I kept wondering whether or not there is but one star that would dare to shine down on me, on this tormented and tired soul. I believe that this cruel life is indebted to me...and, in fact, it is indebted to us all.
Once again, the writer writes and blows out the candlelight. Tonight, she will dream of cotton-swirls or ephemeral happiness. She will contemplate her pathos, her beautiful pathos...