Elsewheres

The Lioness is in fine voice tonight:

Basically, I think I am afraid of becoming a full adult bcs I am afraid I won't be a fully competent, fully excellent one. I don't think that people who fight becoming adults do it bcs their childhood or adolescence were so good they are not ready to give that up. I think it's maybe bcs they weren't all that good, something was missing, they were filled with fears still left un-faced, still not laid to rest, and they fear they will never be good enough at the next, most self-informative, most decisive, most important stage. If you're going to be an adult and not be a fully excellent one, well, potential is good when made into something real, if not you might as well throw yourself in the river now. The tought of what the world is going to demand of us is exhausting but you want to know what the truth is? The truth is, the world, our life, reality are never as bad as our fears abt them. NEVER. I am now looking The Beast right in the eyes, enough, enough of reinforcing what I'm not, time to salute what I have managed to become. I have come far, I truly have come far. I think it's time to see that.

Wonderful, inspiring, enhumbling.

In other news courtesy of swissmiss a very simple, beautiful house high on a mountainside in Scheidegg, Switzerland. (Links to a review of the house and the architects' website.) When I win the lottery, I will make the owners an offer they would be foolish to refuse, and spend the rest of my days looking out of this window. And it was even cheap to build, apparently: only 1450 Euros per square metre.



Paradise, that is.

And like all paradises, completely delusional. I know even while I admire the photo, that I could not live like that. Where are the bookshelves? where are the computers? where are the CDs and DVDs? where are the paintings and etchings and photographs? Where are the piles of paper waiting since 1998 to be filed away? No, the inside of that house would look very different after I'd lived there for a month. Alas.