Thursday, October 22, 2020


The day has well and truly started. When I left the house, John from downstairs was having a cigarette in the airwell, the workers next door were already making machine noises, and Oyster Boy trotted past on his way to Bob's Donuts for a delicious breakfast. I would say I scowled at every one of them, but in all honesty I've been so conditioned to smile when greeting people that I didn't.
In fact, I couldn't. Can't do it.
I am a defective grumpus.
Never-the-less, I fondly think of myself as rabid and dangerous. Bugger the truth. Even cute little hamsters can be terrifying, as they scurry about with their fearsome claws and teeth, worse are the larger animals like chipmunks and horses. How much more so the most dangerous animals of them all: man.

Oh wait, that's not hamsters I'm thinking of. Perhaps poodles.

Doesn't detract intrinsically from my point.

It was a human being that invented 'Hello Kitty', please remember that. Quod erat demonstrandum. The world has been more impersonal and terrifying since then.
Every man has it in him to be a complete blister of a person just after dawn. Even if we don't habitually eat breakfast, there is a hunger. We yearn, for we are empty.
Werewolves, filled with a lack of sensitivity.

That probably accounts for the popularity of breakfast cereals and donuts. Can you even think of more mindless and savage foods?

One of the minor side effects of the medications I'm taking is stomach pain upon rising. I've gotten used to it, but it does rather detract from my sunny disposition. It fades by the second cup of coffee, and within a couple of hours after rising it's gone entirely. Fortunately it does not effect my taste buds -- coffee is always delicious! -- and that first pipe of the day is just purely wonderful, especially when the fog is still swirling around the intersection of Hyde and Jackson, whisping underneath the braches, or up near the top of the hill on Clay Street between Leavenworth and Jones, where there are gingkos exultant in their splendour.
There is a greenness on the cusp of change.

A man can be by himself up there. Him, his briar, and the trees.
It's not cold yet. But cooler than last week.
Fall will be very nice.


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