We do not rest satisfied with the present. We anticipate the future as too slow in coming, as if in order to hasten its course; or we recall the past, to stop its too rapid flight. So imprudent are we that we wander in the times which are not ours, and do not think of the only one which belongs to us; and so idle are we that we dream of those times which are no more, and thoughtlessly over look that which alone exist. For the present is generally painful to us. We conceal it from our sight, because it troubles us; and if it be delightful to us, we regret to see it pass away. We try to sustain it by the future, and think of arranging matters which are not in our power, for a time which we have no certainty of reaching.
Let each on examine his thoughts, and he will find them all occupied with the past and the future. We scarcely ever think of the present; and if we think of it, it is only to take light from it to arrange the future. The present is never our end. The past and present are our means; the future alone is our end. So we never live, but we hope to live; and, as we are always preparing to be happy, it is inevitable we should never be so. ~Pascal, Pensees, no. 172
Pascal maybe just a tad depressing but he's got a point. I don't know what it is, but my mind's been desperately clawing at anything that can give it some new life. It’s been a long while since I’ve had any real contact to conversations that’d give my mind something fresh to think about and this lull is making me unbelievably restless. I think this ass groove I’ve carved out in the last few months is giving me blisters...
Leaving fer Halifax tomorrow. The change of scenery should ease some of this pent up frustration. Oh the irony.
See you all on the flip side.
