I am surrounded by trivial deaths. When the seawater recedes from the shore, countless brightly scaled fish are abandoned to rot, caught between indifferent stones. I could die at any time, and I probably will without having consummated my being. There probably is no possibility of consummation anyhow.
I had a dream that I was in the woods with a group and we were to catch songbirds barehanded. We were such a large group and made so much noise I doubted this was possible at all. There was a falcon, too. A friendly falcon that had its head inside a member of the group’s mouth initially, and then later unsuccessfully chased a songbird. It was faster but less agile and so gave up in the end. Maybe the birds came from Karl’s recitation of Zeus-sent eagles’ omen.
I had a dream my father had me move many cardboard boxes from the garage to the house, and then a portion of those from the house to his shop (that it was his was a prominent detail). After this, I was to move the refrigerator from the house-kitchen to his shop. It was easy to move and I found out in the end it contained a dead and presumably rotting seal. This was to anchor the fridge, to ground it, to weigh it down. I was very resentful towards my father who was selfishly depriving the kitchen of a fridge so he alone could benefit from one in his shop. We were to do without one for some time. There was a shitty old fridge in the basement and I suggested using that one, but my father disagreed, saying it was too big to fit, although it did not appear so to me. Maybe the seal came from the appearance of a basking monk seal on the beach yesterday.
I am having a fantastic time listening to pop music right now. A fantastic time, but this does not always happen to me and I can’t predict how or why it is sometimes so and sometimes not. I am reminded of dancing in Clarke’s room before Meat Market to Boom Boom Boom Boom- it was terrific. Should I just seek out these orgies? Not that I am always successful. And some thinkers, like Dorothea Brooke or Alan Bloom, would disapprove. Now, for Dorothea, I am pretty suspicious her theology/philosophy is flawed, poisonous, maladapted, oppressive, but…I do not know.
This evening I have unexpectedly come into a general feeling of well-being and clear-headedness. It’s all mysterious. I find myself writing my paper in my head spontaneously, which I have been trying to do in pen all day.
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