Crooked Finger (crookedfingers) wrote,
Crooked Finger
crookedfingers

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the dissolving self

It is in the flow of the speed of life 11:47 AM late Monday morning. Existence or life keeps beating away. What is Time? Time is something that is created and one day there will be no Time. There is no recorded history in the Eternal State.

I have had thus far a normal day. I got up this morning around 6:15 AM. I got up made a pot of coffee and a small bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. I ate my oatmeal messing with our main computer.

After messing with our main computer I wrote in my paper diary and then read my Reformation commentary on the Gospel of Luke. Carol got home from work around 8:50 AM and went to bed for the day. I left the house around 9:50 AM to visit thrift stores to search for used books to ADD to our library. I found these used books this morning-

"Deadeye Dick" a novel by Kurt Vonnegut

"Doom" a novel by William Gerhardie

"You Are Not a Stranger Here" Stories by Adam Haslett

"Two Sisters" a novel by Gore Vidal

"In The Bedroom" Seven Stories by Andre Dubus

"Diana: The Goddess Who Hunts Alone" a novel by Carlos Fuentes (Translated From The Spanish By Alfred Mac Adam)

"The Inheritance of Loss" a novel by Kiran Desai

"Highways To A War" a novel by Christopher J. Koch

"Land Of Desire: Merchants, Power, and the Rise of a New American Culture" by William Leach

"Long Time, No See" a novel by Dermot Healy

"Horse-Trading And Ecstasy" essays by Barbara Probst Solomon
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbara_Probst_Solomon

"Queen of the Underworld" a novel by Gail Godwin

"Darwin and the Beagle" by Alan Moorehead

I could have visited more thrift stores but I was hungry so I drove home. I ate lunch and now I am writing in my blogs. I am recovering from going to Africa.

Last night I basically sat in the dining room and read the novel "Lovers At The Chameleon Club, Paris 1932" by Francine Prose till I got sleepy. Now it is 12:03 PM. I suppose I will close to go write in my paper diary and read my books. I read also this morning from a book of essays titled "Readings" by Sven Birkerts. I also read some poems by Philip Larkin this morning.
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