A Good Day

A rarity: I slept in late; a slow and leisurely morning, sipping coffee, listening to Otis Redding (sublte and exquisite soul), and Gillian Welch (sweet, hard-edged country), reading a New Yorker article (people are more resiliant than we think, most of us can bounce back from life-altering trauma), feeling very philosophical; a 'what is this,' 'what is that,' frame of mind. Day after Thanksgiving, the holiday of food and family. Is it egotism to think, 'no one feels what I feel, no one thinks what I think, no one sees what I see?' Communication is very difficult, once you get past, 'hello,' it all quickly devolves into the great pool of uncertainty. Lonliness is just another coat we wear.

Must stay humble, must not get too high, nor too low, whatever the temperature happens to be now, no matter, be assured, it will change.

Might make another pot of 'French Roast,' find another article to sink into, spin some more discs, get ready for a long run, draw a hot bath, read some more of 'A Dead Man in Deptford,' go to a movie or play, have another good meal, think about the 'great unknown,' not clinging to any one thing. Might, or then again, might not. Either way, it already feels like the makings of a 'good day.'