I hope you don't give up.

I have been reluctant to write. Searching for thoughts worth sharing; those I feel comfortable revealing.

Cold rain is falling outside. This morning, thunder woke me from the couch. A friend from the fireline is staying with me. I took the sofa, and gave him my bed.

It would be a good day to sleep in, with gray skies and chilling rain, but now I am one floor below the ground, at the library. Preparing for class, but not really. Maybe just escaping into silence by myself, before I excitedly and reluctantly enter the classroom.

International Development people are strange folk. I grow tired of their postmodern drudgery. Empty words without definition. "But we want to change the world," they say. "To benefit humankind; to bring light to those in darkness."

But in the quiet of my mind I ask, "where does the dark come from? And from where do you gain your concept of light?"

Goodness must have a source, and I know that it is not 'I'. With my great human potential for evil, change for my sake alone is worth nothing to me. The world is not subjective; "rightness" is not "rightness" when and where I say it is. There is something greater, and I will find it.

I am weary.