(no subject)
I haven't been reading books. Neglecting them why? Out of sadness somehow, and boredom, busy-ness fatique lack of interest and these goddamned annoying tumors pressing against the back of my right eye.
But the new Auster arrived, Winter Journal. And this book is giving me something that I need, that I always need but have somehow been living without these long, hot, diseased, (dis)eased, hot hot hot summer months and before, even.
This morning Ray LaMontague playing in the car, Trouble, singing of lost love, love lost and alcoholism and I can't help but think of D. He wrote me last week he is falling deeper into alcoholism and despair- asked for the name of a therapist. I want to ask if he thinks it's because of what he did, his betrayals, all the people he hurt, the pursuit of his own happiness at the expense of so so much. The heart wants what the heart wants right? I can't say that of course if he's close to the edge but boy I'd like to see him face his truth, and he needs to.
But the new Auster arrived, Winter Journal. And this book is giving me something that I need, that I always need but have somehow been living without these long, hot, diseased, (dis)eased, hot hot hot summer months and before, even.
This morning Ray LaMontague playing in the car, Trouble, singing of lost love, love lost and alcoholism and I can't help but think of D. He wrote me last week he is falling deeper into alcoholism and despair- asked for the name of a therapist. I want to ask if he thinks it's because of what he did, his betrayals, all the people he hurt, the pursuit of his own happiness at the expense of so so much. The heart wants what the heart wants right? I can't say that of course if he's close to the edge but boy I'd like to see him face his truth, and he needs to.