missing

home is better. not that I don't appreciate the cooler air, and making the dog sit out on the lawn while I brush her molting hair off, but I miss home. I miss people and the food. I miss whimsy.

we watched knowing last night. it was meh.

I'm reading an introductory article on the importance of literary style in the law. It is generally met with indifference or cynicism among lawyers as they see it as a waste of time. I suppose for them they think that form is less important than substance. When I came across this I thought: surely the form contributes to the substance?

The author felt the same, and went on to point out that form is not something added to substance as a mere protuberant adornment, and that the two are fused in unity. Form takes, holds and preserves substance, saves it from the welter of helpless verbiage.

Justice Cardozo is awesome. he is awesome because he uses a metaphor that involves the comparison of tepid runny pudding with firm pudding grandly presented with a flaming coat of brandy. He compares the importance of form with presentation in food!

blurry days

we went for a walk in enfield today. martin tore his contact lens in half so we needed to get another one for him. I still think, and everyone agrees, that he should've gone with a monocle. but noooo, he had to get a contact lens instead.

all the days blur in and out, and we're not getting much done. I'll have to read some of my business notes before term starts. at the moment I don't have much drive though. but martin and I have lots of conversations about things like politics and nuclear power and other topics that sound boring but maybe we're just boring people.

memories

I feel like life is going by so fast. and I forget more and more of all the good times that were had. not that I want to. we spend so much time and thought on now, what responsibilities, what work, what worries, everything and old beautiful times fade more and more like and old photograph that eventually fades into a blank white glossy sheet.

and there's no way to go back. obviously. every one is shooting out in different directions and we barely have any time ever back together. and all this, well some times this is all a void. this is all lost on the ones who matter. this is all noted and forgotten by the ones that don't.

but I suppose like a song, the white shining piece of paper, at the very least, reminds me that I've had a very happy life so far.




hey, when I see you again, can we talk like we used to?

old times

remember when we would meet up all the time. and we would talk and we would laugh and the only thing I'd conceal, and even then it was partially concealed, would be my concern for you.

and now you're a million miles away from me in almost every conceivable way. even though you're not very many miles away at all.

I guess I didn't move on. there isn't any time now.

not understanding

good god. who can be asked?! STOP BEING SO SELFISH.

some chardonnay

woooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!!!!!

sewing

I'm sewing another patch of cloth to my bag. push the needle in and pull out the thread.

In. Out. In. Out. what's going to happen? In. Out. In. Out. You know what's going to happen, there's no other way it can turn out. In. Out. the question is how much time it'll take. made a mistake. cut the thread and tied a knot. start again.

In. Out. In. Out. It isn't fair. In. Out. In. Out. and there's nothing you can do except sew a stupid patch to your bag. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. what's going to happen between now and then? In. Out. In. Out. you're not allowed to cry. In. that would be selfish. Out. In. Out.





snap.

bad news

bad news comes in the night,
steals the ground out
from under your feet.

It leaves you falling,

falling

in the dark through the
screaming air and the
churning rain.

and what do you have
when you finally hit bottom.
you're still in the dark.
there's still rain.

nothing there.
nothing to be done,
nothing to change what is.