leningrad

So here I am, red-eyed and tired, waiting. My brother is in a land where the sun changes shifts seventeen hours ahead of me and I miss him, so I'm willing to forgo sleep and wait to have a sleepy word or two.

In the mean time, I've been sitting and thinking. About how much I find myself at extremes. Walking home with friends when the air is crisp. Smiling and laughing and listening to the girl I love giggle just because she's tired. Seeing a good friend smile. The world is settling down for winter though and sometimes I feel profoundly angry at this city and myself. Sometimes I don't feel like I am achieving my potential. Other times I don't care. I'm suffering a crisis of belief. Should I struggle for meaning or accept the world as I find it, day to day, as meaningless and make the best of it?

I get existential when it's late. Don't worry about me, if you were about to. I have been making friends and making money enough to keep myself happy. I might go to Toronto in the winter for a visit.

It's hard to be self-doubting and profound at the same time. Intentionally anyway.