"Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot."--Neil Gaiman, The Sandman: Dream Country
And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'T is that I may not weep; and if I weep, 'T is that our nature cannot always bring Itself to apathy. --Lord Byron, Don Juan, Canto 4, Stanza 4
"When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained."--Mark Twain
"Very occasionally, if you really pay attention, life doesn't suck."--Joss Whedon
Or, in other words,
Galileo
Galileo’s head was on the block The crime was looking up for truth And as the bombshells of my daily fears explode I try to trace them to my youth
And then you had to bring up reincarnation Over a couple of beers the other night And now I’m serving time for mistakes Made by another in another lifetime
How long till my soul gets it right Can any human being ever reach that kind of light I call on the resting soul of galileo King of night vision, king of insight
And then I think about my fear of motion Which I never could explain Some other fool across the ocean years ago Must have crashed his little airplane
How long till my soul gets it right Can any human being ever reach that kind of light I call on the resting soul of galileo King of night vision, king of insight
I’m not making a joke, you know me I take everything so seriously If we wait for the time till all souls get it right Then at least I know there’ll be no nuclear annihilation In my lifetime I’m still not right
I offer thanks to those before me That’s all I’ve got to say ’cause maybe you squandered big bucks in your lifetime Now I have to pay But then again it feels like some sort of inspiration To let the next life off the hook But she’ll say look what I had to overcome from my last life I think I’ll write a book
How long till my soul gets it right Can any human being ever reach the highest light Except for galileo God rest his soul (except for the resting soul of galileo) King of night vision, king of insight
How long (till my soul gets it right) [til we reach the highest light] How long (till my soul gets it right) [til we reach the highest light] How long
--Indigo Girls, Rites of Passage (Sony Music Entertainment, 1992)
The Fine Print: --I'm a kinky lesbian in my late-40's with two wonderful teenage kids, and three feline sovereigns. --I'm a sub in search of a domme, but haven't figured out where to find one yet. --I used to be an English professor, but had to retire because of Multiple Sclerosis; I haven't begun to figure out how to mourn this and move on. --I've been writing fanfic (and the occasional piece of original smut) since 1994. Started with Star Trek (mostly Picard/Q), moved on to Xena: Warrior Princess, and Hercules:the Legendary Journeys, and now I write Buffy and Angel fanfic (fave pairings: Spike/Giles, Buffy/Spike), which is all archived (along with excellent stories by other writers) at my website, Power Plays Fan Fiction with a Kinky Edge. --And in a bit of shameless self-promotion, I'm very happy to have published a book, The Byronic Hero in Film, Fiction, and Television. --Help yourself to icons (BTVS, ATS, Firefly, XWP, HTLJ, House, BSG, and other miscellaneous stuff) and icon resources (textures, brushes, and gradients) at my icon journal --My LJ patheticness: I love LJ. I want to answer comments and check out my friends' LJ's all the time. I also want to make icons, write fanfic, read books, read fanfic, participate in LJ groups, watch TV, get out of the house with friends, see movies in actual movie theatres, and heaps more. I also have to do the minimum of life stuff: laundry, dishes, cat box, that sort of thing. MS, fuck it, makes me hugely tired, so I don't do any of the things I enjoy probably a tenth as much as I'd like. It's really fucking frustrating, and I bitch about it to my shrink every week; MS affects everyfuckingthing I do or don't get to do, and I really don't like not having any control over my life. Not to mention that, as it's an autoimmune disease, it's my own body attacking me; specifically my immune system is fucking up my nervous system: Sometimes you just have to laugh. MS also robbed me of the best profession ever. So I nap a lot. I can be reading, writing, whatever, and my eyes start closing, and I have to nap. No choice. Sometimes I'll be dying for something to eat, but I'm so tired that not only can I not get my food, but I can't imagine having the energy to chew it. OK, enough of what my daughter calls a "self-pity party." I'm putting this here just to 'splain why I haven't replied to a comment or checked out your LJ in ages. It has nothing to do w/ you, just that I don't have enough waking hours a day. There's a great essay about people with chronic illnesses and fatigue. It's worth reading if you have a chronic illness yourself, have a friend or family member who does, or just want to understand what it's like. --Favorites: Album: U2, Achtung Baby; Movies: Young Frankenstein, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, Terminator 2, The Crow, Stop Making Sense, True Stories, The Lion in Winter; Authors: Neil Gaiman, Tim Powers, Charlotte Brontë, John Keats, Lord Byron, Neal Stephenson, J. K. Rowling, Dan Simmons; TV: Look at the list of shows I make icons for and add Star Trek: The Next Generation and Bones. --Joss Whedon and Neil Gaiman are my personal gods.