It’s all been said so many stupid ways so many boring times. Maybe I won’t even write any more about the festering bag of clotted grief I’ve become during every waking and many sleeping moments. I’ll let this painting by David Pearson capture my spirit. The illustration is from the Penguin Great Loves edition of Tolstoy’s Kruetzer Sonata, which is about sexual abstinence, jealous rage and resulting murder. Now, Tolstoy: there was a guy who […]
Read moreDay: November 5, 2010
What Can I Say?
I’m pretty bold when it comes to writing about my innermost thoughts here. But I draw the line at matters of terror of the spirit, and also when the ostensible cause of my suffering is another person who has a right to remain untalkedabout. I have just enjoyed several months of deep satisfaction in the camaraderie of a long-term friend. Never for a minute did I take it for granted. It was a long time […]
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