amaranthine

disclaimer: i'm sorry writing and things related to it is pretty much all i ever talk about on here these days, but there's something about college that shoves your aspirations and your future continuously in your face until some days it's all you see. (what a feeble excuse.)

so my history midterm is coming up this weekend, and i've been studying and reading and reviewing all my materials rapaciously. (i've always wanted to use that word.) and something my t.a. said last night during our review session stuck with me--she said the word and study of "history" doesn't really have a definition, except that it is "his-story," the story of the world as far as we know it. i'd heard that thought before, but for some reason it was all i could dwell on today.

can you imagine hearing the story of the world? the entire thing--one beautifully twisted knot, breathlessly macraméed, of lives and places and pasts and futures and thoughts and feelings. it would take you millenia, perhaps the age of the world again, to read it from cover to cover, and its pages would span the heavens, its depth the ocean.

i began to think as i walked home from classes today--i looked at the people around me, blonde, dark, tall, short; tried to divine their provenance, the colors they saw, their spectrum of joy and sorrow, the measure of each life so richly braided and scattered and stacked to the sky; no subtlety of thought or action or being untouched and unexpounded upon by an omniscient Narrator: who alone knows their wealth and their vivid intricacies, their threads of being that float in the wake and grasp and eternally tug other fathomless beings one quivering direction or another, suspended by a tightly-woven web of  infinite instantaneous interactions.

can you imagine writing the story of the world? it would be a beautiful process, monet-like: painfully arbitrary, senselessly helter-skelter at surface level, but an intensely magnificent, intricately patterned and veined universe of paint from above--each unbroken, eternally-considered stroke with incalculable ramifications to the vista as a whole.

one day, i will ask this Author to read His masterpiece to me.

mostly inspired by one of my favorite books, in particular the chapter entitled "intricacy".

jezebel -- iron & wine

go long -- joanna newsom

masterfade -- andrew bird