in·dif·fer·ence [in-dif-er-uhns, -dif-ruhns]

7 07 2007
It’s arrived; the feeling that is. To come home, sit down and immerse myself in my research and my writing without even a sideways glance at the Celtic knot icon on the desktop and still feel completely and wholly attentive and not the slightest bit curious of what is occurring elsewhere. I guess I could say it is apathy.But no, it is really not even that. To feel apathetic I would but first need to feel would I not? And I don’t truly think it is even a feeling; simply put it was a realization that came over me later in the evening that I hadn’t felt at all.

The feeling of not feeling?

Indifference.

Yes, that would summarize it best I suppose.

It isn’t that I have never been able to not log in; quite the contrary; and it isn’t that I haven’t ever not missed not logging in. I simply never even gave logging in the slightest thought and did not realize until much later at night when Glenn was long since involved in some 8-man group that I realized I had not given it thought.

I watched 6 hours of History Channel documentaries on the Romans last night, starting from about 150 BCE and moving forward. After six hours, it is now only up to the conquering of Egypt and the turn of the century. I need a better grasp on Roman rule and mannerisms and battle methods for my writing.

Between the documentary and typing out on the novel and notes, it never occurred to me to peek in game. I guess I shall have my daily dosage soon forthcoming in great volumes with the raids upcoming. It is kind of nice to know it will be my final run through on each. A very finalizing thought really.

You know how after the death of a loved one or even separation from someone with whom you have shared your life, everything thereafter is the first? The first time you have spent the night alone, or the first time you have been to the beach without them, or the first time you have went to the theatre without fighting over the armrest. That is almost how it is as of late, but instead of a memory of what was it is kind of a cementing of what will never be again.

I scouted on Nicollette the final time with Glenn. I hosted the final year of classes. The final ultimate duel and the last video. The final time of paying for the web site. The final time of doing this and that. Each time I feel as though I have signed off on some great accomplishment or trivial one and said to myself ‘It is good’ and let it be to wither.

Perhaps it is the morning coffee high or just my sappy emotional path, but I find myself smiling at knowing it doesn’t bother me any more.

And it doesn’t not bother me either.

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