Lofty thoughts and language on a Thursday morning.

The world is asleep.  Some of us have been awakened but even still, we fight with half-closed eyes in this dream world full of living dead.

It's like The Matrix.

It's like.... Narnia.

It's like the real, unreal thing that this reality is--life.  But a pseudo life without the Truth.  A plodding of the Asleep through moment after moment of a grudging and resigned acceptance of nothing better.

Sometimes they are closer to being awake in their dreams than than they are with their open eyes.  The stirring to believe the dream of something better, that inward soul-cry of "I was not meant for this!", has been squelched.  It hurts too much to hope.  It's too painful to consider that indeed we are not meant for this, to entertain the beliefs that pain is an abomination, loss an affront, and fear the repercussion of a debilitating disease.

The squelching begins in childhood almost as soon as the questioning.  Children are always more awake but the world and its small-minded ruler deny them their better dreams and they put away their childish wisdom.  There's no Aslan, no Neo, no The One, no Something Better, only this life and sometimes the grief of hoping without real conviction. 

The trouble is, like my someday friend Mr. Lewis said, that the dreams and desires and hopes that can't be satisfied in or by this world are proof that we were not made for this world.  There is something better.  There is hope.  Pain, suffering, loss, and fear bewilder and offend us because we were not made to accept them.  We rebel against injustice because we were made by Righteousness.  We detest oppression because we were created for freedom. 

Even the awake ones, like me, have to remember this.  This life is reality, yes, but only to the extent that we can see the Ultimate Real in it.  If you can't, even after you have been awakened, then watch out!  You are succumbing again to the lullabies of this lying world.  Remember that those most precious, terrifying feelings of hope that a great, healing adventure exists are preludes to the day when the Awakened will hear the words of the Lion  "The dream is ended: this is the morning."

There are two kinds of blank pages in this world. The kind that may be filled with what you want, and the kind that must be filled with what someone else wants.

One more thing: when i was eleven and read about Sir Gawain for the first time, i had no idea so much of my time and energy would be focused on him in college.

I know it makes sense for libraries to smell good, because books smell good, but seriously, libraries...smell good. Now i'm going to stop sniffing and write.

The fact is, we just don't have enough facts!

If you can name the movie my title came from, I will give you one blog dime.  Ten blog dimes equal one web dollar.  Ten web dollars don't equal anything.

I have missed my blog!!  I really have.  No, really.  I HAVE.  The fact is, it WAS the end of March.  The fact is, it IS the beginning of April.  DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?!  (And I mean other than wearing flip-flops, for which my toes are grateful. oh and, be tea dubs, I have not set a "writing in all caps" quota for this post, so expect a lot of random YELLING.)

Well, if you haven't yet guessed, it means than I and all my other college pals are ABSOLUTELY STRETCHED.

SOOOOOOooooooooo anyway, don't feel left out because NONE of my electronic connections are getting much attention these days, not even my Facebook.  I mean, I still haven't updated my status from YESTERDAY.  I know.  RI-diculous. At least I think it was yesterday.  That's another fact.  Days sort of all blend in together this time of the year.  I was sitting on the couch with my three roomies discussing important brain-dead matters like words that begin with the letter 'm' in Greek and so on and so forth and then I suddenly could not decide if I had spent several hours in the library computer lab toDAY, or, YESTerday.  (It was yesterday, when I last updated my FB status...I think.)

Honestly.  I'm not myself.  Don't be insulted or worried if you can't determine the point of everything I have just said, either, because there isn't one.  Except to say that this is me, hanging my "will return in..." sign in my blog window.  If you really need me, I will be spending my off hours staring at the wall in hopes of recovering my lost brain cells.  They're difficult to catch because they only speak Spanish and they all have names in the imperfect subjunctive tense.

Do you have ANY idea how late it is?  You should be ashamed, keeping a young, studious woman like me up to such a late hour.  And don't you DARE attempt ANY grammar or spelling corrections to any of this in your mind or in your comments.  I promise I will read this when I am actually awake and cringe dutifully at them all.