5.11.01 – Monday
I have come to the inevitable conclusion. Running into the eternal interrogative (thinking Forsterian here, can you tell?): the answer can, the answer must, for me at least, be yes. Not the ‘yes’ that means ‘no,’ not the affirmative that scorns, but that quiet ever so blank ‘yes’ which means everything & nothing, offers no promises, utters not prophecies, simply marks that, yes, things are, aren’t they. Make of it what you will.
They’ve added more shelves in Cutter — at the expense of all the secluded tables, the perfect murky silence of a world without windows, only books. I remember discussing ancient sources in the security of that bunker, chattering about Tacitus and the difficulty of inscriptions as the lights purred and the dust settled. One must keep a constant. I keep one. Change…
Please? Do you have any spare change? Ah—yes.