Woke up with the kind of wild, transient sadness that marks the best and worst of everything. Places I’ve forgotten, people I’ve lost, things I might have been instead, mornings that should have gone on forever but were over by noon—all of those things that will never again be were sleeping alongside me, apparently, and for a while after I woke up it wasn’t clear whether or not they had gone.
So I’ve showered up and cleaned a little and tried to make things in my life a little more orderly, and now I’ll go and try to do some studying at school, just like any day.
This sort of thing isn’t for everybody, but I am absolutely enchanted by it. I know that people have a tendency to say “those don’t look real” about really spectacular nature or travel shots, but I tend to think that those people have lead in their souls, since clearly the only thing they saw last time they watched sunset was the sun and the sky, same as ever.
I tend to think I would read faster and more deeply if I could read all of my texts on a screen instead of in pages. Paradoxically, I very much like pages and feel that the screen is lacking a certain sensuousness that enriches the experience of reading immensely. Still, there are times at which the “experience” of the act when reading is secondary to a kind of brute means-ends consumption and for that sort of thing I think ephemeral user interfaces suit me better.
Serial numbers within two feet of me right now, not including the notebook I’m typing on: