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Rainy and 67˚F here. There was a terrible wind yesterday afternoon and last night. It kept me awake until well after four a.m., battering the trees and the house, gust to nearly 40 mph. The wind is the fist of the sky.

I wake every day certain that this is all I can take, that this, this day, will be where it stops, and then...there's more. The world is determined to prove to me, indefinitely, that there's still worse to come.

Yesterday, Spooky gave me Maja Säfström's Animals of a Bygone Era: An Illustrated Compendium.

I didn't really work yesterday, just correspondence. Today, I have to be at the Hay again, to go through some of the Silk files, to see if there are things I want included in the Centipede Press edition.

Aunt Beast

6:01 p.m.


( 1 comment — Have your say! )
Rick Keeney
Oct. 30th, 2017 03:33 pm (UTC)
Inspired by this entry of yours, I had the thought that you might find the following quote...useful:

“We shall do best to think of life as a desengano, as a process of disillusionment: since this is, clearly enough, what everything that happens to us is calculated to produce.” -Arthur Schopenhauer



( 1 comment — Have your say! )