It’s that time of night again, the time when war is declared
between the keepers of light and reason, and the powers of passion and
persuasion.
This is the essence of my relationship with life.
I sat close to a woman on the train today and we kept making
eye contact. She summed up the conflict. She was in my life for no longer than
half an hour and we never spoke. I will never see her again, and yet she will
ever remain significant in her own way. I’ve no doubt she was a surrogate; I
wonder whether she knew.
Jeffrey’s in a weird mood. Night.
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