Freezing weather in March (snow today after huge high winds last night).
A deeply disturbing documentary we watched yesterday about the "manosphere."
David Markson's This Is Not a Novel.
"Golden" running through my head, making me cry, over and over again.
Cancer-fighting drugs surging through my system, making me aware of the magnitude of my physical state: this is far from easy, and far from over.
The state of the world, brought to humanity and other living things by a chaotic, unstable, craven, cartoon of a "man" who somehow is able to do whatever he wants to do.
The streamlined directness of Haydn.
The hope of Bach later today.
And the hope that tomorrow might be a little easier to bear.
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1 comment:
hang in there, Elaine, the end result will be worth it
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