weekly overflow

There seems to be a huge gap between private meaning and public acknowledgement of it. The acknowledgement is important to me; based on my view of meaning and language it's vital, but I don't know how to deal with the former in the latter, and vice versa. There is a tension between meaning I intend, meaning I hope the intended target will receive, and the meaning that is assigned by the public. I suck at ignoring the last bit, and I apologize to those for whom it is inconvenient.

There is a new notable; everyone acclaim St. Ockham with much regard; the name fits to me, at least (though I see myself as the Xeno to the Ockham).

(no subject)

The effort and energy it has taken to get here seems, in retrospect, huge. Whatever sense of accomplishment I might take from that, however, seems drowned out by the unimaginable more necessary to get there, wherever that may be. I fear I lack the strength, courage, and resources to keep moving; in idle moments of doubt, I keep wondering if I can't just set down roots here, maybe make some crude shelter and strive for comfort, but I know myself enough to know that won't work, at least not for long. Why can't I give up a little self knowledge for comfort, damn it? Grr.