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It is the strangest of motives that drive me now to write. I have nothing to say, no thesis to argue no path to suggest no words, perfectly crafted in my mind, that compel me to put them to paper and develop some sort of rationalization or organization. Yet I cannot avoid the compulsion to put words to paper, to meander across the page looking for solace in the comfort of words.

I don’t normally do this, stream of conscious, meandering, writing, and even now I hesitate to commit my unedited splurge to the world and perhaps I shall have to review this before I do, but I could of course take the first bold step of doing without. My first inclination as usual is to cover my ass rather then commit anything inept to posterity, and as the wise before us have said you don’t regret the things you didn’t say. This actually might not be true because, sometimes, you do regret the things you don’t say because the right word at the right time in the right moment might have made all the difference. I’ve reached a decision by the by, to edit only for clarity and I will not in substance remove any content that I now expel into the ether, finding solace in the nature of these words.

I’ve just re-read Manc Sean’s comment to my last post, the one on Leaving FMGamer, and I’m taking a bit of solace in the mutability of things at the moment, finding strength in the idea that this too shall pass, but at the same time finding the reassurance of prospective mutability, that the sun shall set and rise again, to know that things will not stay the way they are as neither solace nor comfort but rather a cryptic harbinger of doom and an implacable enemy to my desire to understand. At my core I am a person who seeks to understand intellectually the world that I pass through. While I can intellectually appreciate the role of emotion, irrationality and intuition in the action of people, I find it when I have to deal with sudden bursts of these without any clear understanding or knowledge of where these things are coming from or where they are heading. A maelstrom of action surrounds me, me who’s nature is not of action.

Naturally I feel the response to action, however caused, is action, yet I cannot find within me the motivation to respond with action. I feel a strange listless exhaustion, as if life has overwhelmed and conquered, my ship is run ashore and now I wait for wind and tide to turn before again setting out into the maelstrom. It is abundantly clear that at the current moment to sail out again would be perilous, I lack the will to see the right course and the right action will be maintained. Partially my mental state is to blame but I’m also aware that I was awoken rather early today by the recovery of my niece to better health as well as the strange twinges in my leg that I seem to have damaged playing squash yesterday which gives of the sensation almost that if I were to lean too hard on my leg it would buckle under me and I would collapse, and at any rate I have no desire to press my leg into service to find out how faithful it would be in the circumstances. But the lack of a will to force iron into action is perhaps a greater disability then anything physical could ever be.

I don’t feel satisfied with the meager words that have been placed here, and perhaps now I understand even with the slightest, and then only empathetic, participation, why James does not write. These words seem inadequate and incomplete, vague and illusive, transient and concealing yet too revealing and inept. They are partial yet complete and disturbing while neither aiding me nor hindering my thoughts. They are like the shroud that covers the mysteries in the Ancient Temple of the Jews – barrier and substance and immaterial all at the same time. What a strange simile my mind has darted to; what a difficult one to grasp as well for those uninitiated in the odd habits of the Judaic Temple that once was of Solomon.

I think I shall stop here, I have produced words but they have provided precious little solace and perhaps too much complication and too little opacity for any real purpose, they are words though, and perhaps as I advocated long ago just placing a few of them in order might help to clarify. Just not now.