Via John Poelstra's blog, a lovely poem. Excerpt:

We will catch our own breaths
with the thrill
of it all
or we will fall
with a thud
to the hard, hard ground.

I have news for you:
it was there anyway.

It seems appropriate, given what I've been thinking about recently.

In other news, I've started.

That's my grad school application (or what will become my application, rather), such as it is, right this moment. This will evolve (a lot - as you can see from its current horrible horrible messy state) and I will be refining it, taking it out to people for feedback, getting ideas, help, commentary, patches... it's not a release, it's not ready for public consumption in the "it is a useful artifact to someone now and is intended to be read and understood!" sense, but I'm doing this out in the open, and I will continue to do so, and... well, there.

I know that it is buggy and incomprehensible right now; right now I'm trying to get my own thinking straight, and patches and comments are welcome but may not necessarily be accepted at the moment because I'm seriously in a giant state of flux with regards to all of this right now and do not even vaguely know what the heck I'm doing. (This is an overstatement, yes. I'm doing something that I'm scared of, so I am flailing around a lot. When I calm down I'll realize I actually do have quite a bit in mind already, and that it is probably not all that bad.)

I... am typing too much. This is a sign that I am anxious and should leave off on this and go to bed. Yes. That sounds like a good idea.

But I began!