Alexei Fyodorovitch


I love the idea of books. Sometimes I also love books. I wrote my Senior Thesis on the Brothers Karamozov (even though I did not finish it for months). I think I received a “c” on the paper.

Now, I’m reading it with a group of guys and enjoying it even more.

As I have said before, it often seems as though everyone around me is drowning, and sometimes it seems like the water threatens me also. Alyosha, (the youngest of the brothers proper, second youngest really) is having a similar day – his brothers are scheming or scoundreling, his mentor lays dying in the same room, his father a reprobate, and a random crippled woman from his childhood has just professed her undying love for him.

These are Dostoyevshy’s words as Alyosha lays down in his cell at the monastery, “He slowly replaced the note in the envelope, crossed himself and lay down. The agitation in his heart passed at once. “God have mercy upon all of them, have all these unhappy and turbulent souls in Thy keeping, and set them in the right path. All ways are Thine. Save them according to Thy wisdom. Thou art love. Thou wilt send joy to all!” Alyosha murmured, crossing himself, and falling into peaceful sleep.”

I prayed this prayer last night, and will likely pray it again…

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