Now would be an excellent time to despair.
While riding the high of passing my Italian final exam, I find myself without a wallet.
It has almost been certainly been thieved, considering that every item that accompanied the wallet has turned up unmolested.
This is the last time I go out for dinner and drinks with my Italian class.
Who am I kidding?
I'm like a mouse to cheese. A sexy, dark-haired, bilingual cheese.
I feel naked and alone without that absurd leather pouch.
It feels like freedom.
This is where the heroes are made. This is what sifts them from the rest of the silt and rubble.
I think that despite my inability to access my financial resources for the next undetermined period of time, I will still be able to accomplish my goals in a manner that will not compromise my beliefs.
Very Randian, I know. Whatever it is, it's how I live. How I choose to live.
What do I have? To quote Rorschach, "Your hands. My perspective."
I do get upset when I lose all the other things in my life that distract me from who I am, who I think I am, and who I am trying to be. I have found it difficult to stay upset. I meet too many people that frantically flounder to maintain their smokescreen as if we already couldn't almost see entirely through them.
I'm not saying they're wrong. But my arms can't flap that fast.
I hope they find happiness. I'm pretty sure I won't be anywhere near them when and if they do.
I raise my glass in a silent toast to them. To myself. To all of us.
I'm pretty sure we won't make it out of this alive.
Still, I'm very glad I found you here. Even if it was just for a moment.