Crooked Finger (crookedfingers) wrote,
Crooked Finger

  • Mood:

I made them drunk in my wrath

It is 9:22 AM Thursday morning in the flow of universal decay. Outside this morning I see blue sky and sunshine, but we are suppose to be hit by a snow storm around 5 o'clock PM this evening. It is time to batten down the hatches.

Carol and I just got back from going grocery shopping. Carol is now cooking food to deliver to a needy family in her church. I am trying to locate my self. I am out of my rhythm. I like waking up and just drifting through the morning do the same things like making oatmeal, messing with our main computer, writing in my paper diary and then reading my Christian books. Now I am sitting here writing in my online diaries lost.

Last night I read my books, watched some college football and listened to music. I went to bed last night around 11:30 PM. I remember having a dream where my hands and feet were CD's.

Well there is not much else to report right now due to being out of my rhythm. Existence keeps speeding to the Last Day. I will read today some more of the novel, "Pursuit Of The Prodigal" by Louis Auchincloss. I started reading last night a new book titled, "The Feud: Vladimir Nabokov, Edmund Wilson and the End of a Beautiful Friendship" by Alex Beam.

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