A Black Feather, A poison pen... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- All that is not heaven Another workday underway. Pondering the discrepancies in my databases, all these little failures piling up in the paperwork like east-coast snowdrifts Eleven years ago this week, among other unpleasantries was the incidence of my premature burial by a pair of snowblind acquaintances. Fun. This coveringover of a thousand anxieties with a thin veneer of guileless enthisiasm is getting exhausting. I'm not really doing anyone any good, not myself or anyone else. If Ripper and Todd had been a little more astute, they would have made sure that what they planted stayed planted. But depending on perspective, for good or ill, they didn't do it and so i am still here...the bad penny that keeps turning up, the rotten apple all contagious decay in its bushel basket. Goethe's Mephisotpheles, keenly aware of my lack of grace 12:27 p.m. - 2003-02-18 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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