17 November 2002


Sometimes it seems as though everything has somehow fallen into place. Then new friends depart and old old friends arrive and omnipresent incongruities stand out in sharp relief such that one cannot possibly ignore their stark & foreboding presence. Gigantic stalagtites are hanging from the livingroom ceiling. And throughout the entire weekend would sometimes drop-out mid-conversation; attention diverted and captured by simmering inner abstractions followed by inopportune efforts to scientifically examine and classify all the disparities and chart their shifting complexities. To sort out and make sense of things, while in company, is neither fun nor polite. "I'm sorry, What were you saying? I was busy making sense of things." And the fact that this dreary weather could not be any more crappy, does not help.

All weekend. Wanting to be somewhere else - In a different compartment - away from the dark - in E's amber light passing her sketch book back and forth.

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