Non est ad astra mollis e terris via

It’s copy pasted. I don’t know shit about Latin.

“Why Latin?”, you might ask. Hmph. Why indeed. The first explanation that might come to mind is that I have some need to flaunt my vast and varied knowledge of all earthly things, to be acknowledged as a superior being, whether it be through hate, envy, or, in the rarest of cases, admiration. It’s an entirely valid arguement, seeing as admiration is a not-so-discrete human need. But that idea falls short in this case; I’ve already disclosed that I know nothing of the language.  Thus, it can be discarded… or can it? There’s more than one way to skin a cat, dear friends, and more than one way to deceive an unsuspecting reader. The more astute of you will be quick to realize that I took my lack of knowledge for all things Latin and used it to make the illusion of a dominance over the English language and a grasp on the human psyche that really isn’t there. All meticulously planned and calculated. And you know what? The more astute of you would be wrong, too. I used Latin because Tammy text messaged me “I think, therefore I am,” in Latin, and I thought it’d be neat for a title to a rant.

“Then why write a paragraph that seems to have no point other that to insult your readers?” I assure you, I’ve no intention to insult you… not today, at least. The preceding paragraph is nothing more than an introduction to a rant that I’ve yet to know what it consists of, like running into a damp, dark cave, armed with nothing more than a will to survive; this post is that cave, and the promise of some inspirational message is that will to survive. For some time now, I’ve felt that I am due for some significant, life-changing event, and I do not mean my own. I’ve no idea what actions will bring this sensation to life, nor its intended scope, nor the medium through which it will be thrust upon the unsuspecting party. I’m convinced that this thing – this calling, if you will – is most certainly real, but without so much as a hint to what it’s supposed to be for, I am left to wonder if the monotony of day to day living will eventually take me to my destination. Maybe being dressed in business casual from 9 to 5 will be my guide. Maybe I’ve yet to reach that bump in the road. Maybe that damp, dark cave is a lot bigger than just this post. And yet here I am, rattling fences with a twig as I watch the sidewalk pass under my feet. What’s a boy to do?

There is no easy way to get from the Earth to the stars.

[Light-hearted note: I didn't really feel like doing narrative this time around. Sorry! I'll get back to it soon enough, though. Just as soon as I get the pictures from the vacation up. Yeah...]