On the subject of the previous post:
1) I remember as a little boy feeling the most pressing need
to find the 'arm clothed in white samite.'
2) I make a distinction between purity and perfection.
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Do you know what I find extremely satisfying? Bringing all
my tools back from the garden and restoring them to their appointed resting
places. I think it has something to do with a regard for functionality. Or
laziness.
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Seeing ‘Bronx, New
York’ in my Feedjit brings mixed feelings. On the one
hand it engenders anxiety and what Macbeth called ‘horrible imaginings.’ On the
other, I would miss it a lot. Getting little sparks of adrenalin on grey days
is not to be sneezed at. I’ll settle for grateful.
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