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It’s been a while since I last wrote here. Some things have happened, and now, I’m back in the basement where it all started. I’m not gonna lie, its slow in the basement, and a little lonely. But, maybe I could use a touch of both those shades.

I tried to talk to my parents today. I tried to explain how interesting the stuff I was reading in Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time was—relativity, the big bang, pretty generic stuff really. I was trying to explain how I had been wondering about the Shrivastava theorem; about whether—if the big bang happened in cycles, and there was enough density to the universe to stop the expansion and bring it all back to one point, and then blow up again—things would happen the same way. I hadn’t gotten that far in the book yet, and I was just throwing the idea out there that maybe there is only one way for an infinitesimally small and infinitely dense point to pack—and if there is, then maybe there is only one way for it to unpack. Maybe all of this has happened before, and will continue to happen again—forever. Just a thought.

Anyway, I’m trying to just make small talk, when my mom asks, do you ever talk to that duke kid about this? I thought you said he was pretty religious. Huh? I wasn’t talking about religion mom. I was talking about astrophysics. And to be honest, I’m frustrated by the fact that evidently you saw a tension between what I was saying about the big bang and your own conception of religious faith. It just didn’t make any sense. Why did me getting into the idea of the big bang have to have anything to do with religious faith?

Why do I have to believe that God created the universe to get something out of Christianity? Why do I have to believe that Christ was the son of God to get something out of Jesus? Why do I have to believe anything religion tells me to understand that kindness, compassion, and charity—just like strength, wisdom, and cleverness—are examples are of arête, excellence?

It’s just kind of frustrating, that’s all. I wish people would stop worrying whether things are right or wrong and just start thinking about what’s most useful. Then again, I wish I could sleep well at night, too. Maybe it’s my conscience. I really don’t think it is though—its probably the java chip ice cream cake I eat every night. Yum.

The CC is in LA. Tank is who knows where. The LTLF isn’t anymore, but she’s going to seattle, and sounds like she’s doing well for herself—better than me anyway. D is still in Hawaii, living the life, maybe he’ll come to Seattle, too, with me and the B’s and K. Ryan and Ice and Easy-E and tall tree will be there for a while too, until they go on to bigger and better things.

Sorry to keep changing subjects, but it just happens like that sometimes, you know? And an older man told me a while back about how he still kept in touch with his old friends and they saw each other several times a year and cooked and drank and golfed and shot the shit. It was kinda reassuring. And really, I think that’s worth a lot. Having good people around is important. Probably the most important. A good family is a huge part of it, but I’m not sure that’s enough. I think that was part of why the college life was so nice—so many people, there’s bound to be a couple good one’s around. I think that keeping them around is gonna be important. If not around, at least, around.

Where are we going? And when?