The first snow of the year came too late. It is already late January. But there is something very happy about the first snow. A dusting fell in the morning and the evening brought a proper snowfall. All sins are forgiven under a blanket of white powder. It is disappointing like so many other things. Sometimes you are upset that things that could have been so much more didn't turn out that way. Things that may have had a way to bloom actually wither and all you can do is bear witness. Nothing more.
As Ginsberg wrote, yesterday I saw God. He was a lonely old man with a white beard. Except, this time, he was not in the country sitting in a cheap cottage. He was sitting outside the train station begging for small change. It was cold and he needed warmth.
I am dreaming of books showering on me. heavy thick folios falling on my head. Knowledge kills. Heavy knowledge kills instantly. Especially when bound in hard cover.
If only you could read everything I choose not to write today.
For the most depressing day of the year according to some sources, it turned out pretty good.
