It is 2;46 PM Saturday afternoon here in West Michigan. I feel like writing, but sadly I think to myself does it really matter. I mean why write when it is only words that will be never heard. Who loves my words? Who really knows me? It seems the older I get the more I become a stranger to others and myself. I am disappearing. I will soon be invisible.
I noticed one of our children left a text on their mother's cell phone asking if she works this weekend. I thought to myself if our children wanted to know if their mother was working this weekend they could read my online diary. Maybe our children do not want to be exposed to their father's thought world. It is a reality we are all separate worlds spinning around other separate worlds.
I did leave this morning to finish the Thrift Store Crawl for Carol. I visited four thrift stores and then came home. I had enough of the world after standing in line at junk stores. I did find a few used books at these thrift stores-more words to be forgotten-
'Lolita' a novel by Vladimir Nabokov [Everyman's Library] (I collect different editions/front covers of the novel 'Lolita'.)
'By A Slow River' a novel by Philippe Claudel Translated from the French by Hoyt Rogers
'How Ronald Reagan Changed My Life' a memoir by Peter Robinson Former Speechwriter To The President
'Fighting for Air: In the Trenches with Television News' memoir by Liz Trotta
When I got home from my wanderings I ate lunch and cataloged the used books I got today into my LibraryThing site.
A pile of shit came in the mail this afternoon.
Presently I have been reading the crime fiction 'The Fallen' A Quinn Colson Novel by Ace Atkins.
Well not much else to report so I will close to drift.
I told Carol this morning I read a lot of News on the internet and I still do not know what is going on in America or the world at large. Who is telling me the Truth in the World and National News? What is really going on?
When you get to know someone after awhile you come to realize there is nothing inside that person. People seem to be in some fantasy world thinking there is going to be steak and potatoes constantly. Whereas in truth there is only going to be ashes and burnt souls.
- Music:Mark Lanegan 'Has God Seen My Shadow? An Anthology 1989-2011'