The air is
stagnant after ten pm, 4 stories above the ground. An artificial wind
device would be most appreciated at this juncture, and I will seek
one as soon as possible. With the arrival of an unexpired debit card
and a father, all of my needs will doubtless be met immediately.
I have had a period of gentle certainty
in my place here. More social opportunities arise than I am
interested in participating in these days, which leaves a security
blanket of potential escape on the shivering body of my hermitage.
Anna is done, and so I began Le Trone de Fer, which, to
my infinite disappointment, is not literature. It is a book, it is a
story, but if it wasn't poorly written it was poorly translated and
my patience for it is strained. On the other hand, I have read 300
pages of it and will certainly read the next 200. There is something
to be said for stories. But I doubt I will look for its sequel.
Pierrot le Fou. That
was literature. No, it was film, but it felt like literature. Maybe I
will write a story of Pierrot le Fou, maybe it is inspiring. Maybe
it's just conversational, and the conversation should be kept
private. How would I write the colors? I saw it outside, in the
night, and the bells of churches rang during the movie.
I am still
uncomfortable at work. This is because I don't really have any. I'm
not taught, either. You know I study physics because I don't think I
could learn it on my own. Well, these summer adventures are all about
learning physics on my own and it's all very contrary to my central
beliefs about physics. Do I learn? What can I relay from my readings?
Vague things, and only with specific questions. If I reread my
summaries I do a bit better.
So there. There we
are.
Oh, and I am eating
luxuriously. Rillettes de Canard is meat that melts like summer on
your tongue. However, I am starting to believe that my appreciation
of food is somehow linked to my menstrual cycle. I find I have phases
of everything-is-delicious and other times nothing-tastes-right and
still other what-does-hunger-feel-like periods. Maybe there is some
other cycle, but that is the cyclest cycle I know.
Next weekend, to
the mountains! I didn't speak directly about the subject of this
weekend, but it was pleasant though too hot. Apero at la Daurade,
with normal conversations. I did the laundry! It was very pleasurable
to do, I wish I had done it more often. The movie, and today the
natural history museum which has an impressive collection of
skeletons.
C'est ca la vie. La
vie, c'est là.
No comments:
Post a Comment