on beck and handke, but mostly just me getting on (or not)

listening to Beck. . .making my rounds in this city trying to take it all in before it disappears the morning after New Year's. . . with finals and papers winding down (though not yet done) I bought myself a treat--a novel by Peter Handke (German), recommended to me by a good friend who considers Handke the best contemporary writer. . . am reading hundreds of biographies for the encyclopedia . . about jewish politicians, artists, mathematicians. . . men and women who lived on the edge and fought hard for what they believed in . . . i thought it might be a nice idea if i could jot down notes each day on some of the people i'd read about, but i work only a few hours a week and don't know how i could steal time into that, though perhaps i could just write the names and then fill in from memory. . . . the history boys was a good movie, though after some thought i removed it from my list of favorites because good though it was it didn't leave any lasting impression, which, i believe, is the only real measure of good art

and i'm trying to live in the present but i'm caught between the past and the future and i'm afraid to let go and i'm afraid to stop worrying and i'm afraid to live in the here and now, and yet i'm doing it, each day a little more than the one before, learning that life is in the moment and that there is no telling what will be nor changing what's already been. . . and so the story goes. . .and it's thrilling because it's my own. and because real life is better than the best fiction, because it's true in a way that fiction can never be.