Wordle 1753 5/6*
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(Unbelievable, I guess I’m the word of the day fr)
We covered Vernon Twp. Volunteer Fire Dep’t, Inc. v. Connor, 855 A.2d 873 (Pa. 2004) in Property today. As a case about a “dry” subdivision, Professor Kahan went on a brief aside about her college-aged kids’ difficulties in finding kosher alcohol (because observant Jews are not supposed to have grains during Passover) this weekend, so that was pretty fun. We’re also finally getting into zoning and urban planning (God is good). I took a pass on cold calls; most of the class did, too, because the briefs are due at 8 PM, and even those of us who are done aren’t done. I pulled another all-nighter; I must have rearranged the structure of my arguments around a dozen times. I’m currently going through it yet again, and as of this writing, I’m on the first factor of the T.L.O. test.
Memory’s a funny thing, ain’t it? People have often told me I have an excellent one. I tend to have very strong mental associations between experiences, at least. I love music, I always have, I love to really listen to it, to lose myself in it, to lose myself in performing it. I love sharing songs with others, and I love it when they share songs with me. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t harder to enjoy music over the past few weeks. Sometimes I put on a favorite song, and it’s just noise. Sounds. Vibrations in the air devoid of feeling. Other times, I’ve had the opposite problem: songs evoke such an intense response that I can’t listen, lest I be overwhelmed by feeling everything at once. My memories are clear, crisp, more real than reality, and they burn.
I know, in some abstract sense, that the things of this world are finite. I can wax philosophic about it all day, employing all the ten-dollar SAT words I learned when my mom read the dictionary to me as a kid before bed. People have asked me why I sound like I’m always saying goodbye for the last time, and I’d always respond with the cliche that, for all I know, it very well could be. There’s no shame in cherishing the finite things in life, carpe diem and all. Yet I don’t really practice what I preach, deep down? I find it hard to relax, to cherish the here and now as is; I’m terrified of loss, and the burning memories that come with it.
Maybe posts like this are part of the problem? Less time writing, more time doing. Less time looking backward, reminiscing, winding up the music boxes in my head just to hear the same twinkling, bittersweet melodies. Last night I went to the gym to burn off some excess energy so I could focus on my brief. The punching bag is a lot of fun, and I’m faster on the treadmill than I’ve ever been. On the walk to Kline today, I realized I’m gonna need to invest in new slacks soon, which is exciting. Maybe once I reach my goal weight, I’ll look into it. I have that follow-up interview with the MontCo Solicitor’s Office tomorrow. And I also have my LegReg group projects to work on, on top of prepping for finals.
And yet the memories don’t stop burning, even as the world keeps turning.
Sierpinski Tetrahedron 