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Man, I have not posted here in a WHILE. - I Am my Own Enigma

About Man, I have not posted here in a WHILE.

Previous Entry Man, I have not posted here in a WHILE. Sep. 28th, 2010 @ 11:09 pm Next Entry
But then I haven't had much going on. Biking to work as often as I can.

- and work, speaking of it, is still going well. I don't mind it, anyway, and I feel like I'm pretty good at what I do, it's rewarding in its own way and the money is nice (although I fear that for someone like me money will never be anything more than "nice" - not that I might not ever make more than I do, just that it's not a thing that I value so highly. But then that might change.) I like it. A ten-hour day at OpenPath is like a six-hour day at a child care job or a warehouse. So that's good.

But other than that, what? I am rereading Things in the Night, which is every bit as beautiful as it was last time I read it. Perhaps next I will read The Life and Death of American Cities, or perhaps Notes from the Underground, or maybe the Patrick O'Brian books. And I just did some Salinger, and before that I reread the Star of the Guardians books that I so loved as a child.

It is autumn, and all that that entails (although not so much as it used to, since there's no new school year for me). Leonard Cohen and leaves, a different sort of rain. Windows open instead of air conditioners. That peculiar smell in the air that either you know or you don't but God knows I can not describe.

This season holds me tight and I ache to describe it, but I can't. In any case it sure is nice to be awake a few minutes earlier than necessary and to sit on my porch resting my feet on my bicycle, bag in hand, reading and sipping something with a lot of caffeine. Or walking over the sidewalk slippery with leaves and feeling the wind over the bridge. And there I go trying to describe it, as I just said I couldn't - and indeed these words are only a reminder to myself that nobody else will even read, or at least care for. They won't have the significance to anyone else that they do to me. I haven't been this happy since the end of World War Two.

Man, does anybody even read this thing anymore?

Does it (and here I'm talking to the me of seven years ago who started this damn thing) - does it matter?
Current Location: Annapolis
Feeling...: nostalgicnostalgic
Auditory Emanations:: Leonard Cohen - Waiting for the MIracle to Come
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From:ryanitenebrae
Date:September 29th, 2010 05:12 am (UTC)
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I read this. But the thing is, I also talk to you, so it's all sort of redundant.
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From:siberiannight
Date:September 29th, 2010 02:55 pm (UTC)
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The end of WWII?

(As you can tell, I read this)
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From:autophage
Date:October 1st, 2010 06:05 am (UTC)
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It's a line from "Waiting for the Miracle to Come". By Leonard Cohen.
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From:anathelen
Date:September 29th, 2010 06:38 pm (UTC)
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I read this. Your paragraph on autumn made me spontaneously decide to bike down to the docks late last night since the Sultana was in port, and sit on the end of the dock to sing and watch the moon glitter on the Severn. It's a good time of year for late-night bike riding.

Want to hang out and drink red wine outside some time this week?
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From:autophage
Date:October 1st, 2010 06:06 am (UTC)
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Alas, it wasn't exactly outside.
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