09.03.02 – Saturday
10 a.m. — overcast — damp concrete and asphalt — buildings and cars reduced to slick darkness.
The taste of old coffee settles, permanent, in my mouth, ashen, dull.
I woke up late and my only desire was to read about history — Chinese history, architectural history: history.
Then, after noon. Appeareth the sun, and blue skies, and a pale light on the byways. Also people who do not trudge, but walk with something akin to energy and spirit.
I am not one of them. For I sit inside and stare at the ever blankening walls and try to form sentences that do not seem to fit. Which is just how I like it.