three years in and done
seems to be the right thing.
When it ends, no matter how, the feeling is not of remorse or sadness, but a sense of right, or as Pierre said: "Just", it is that.
she is sad, but shortly that will pass, when that sense of just comes about.
the fog of me will lift from her and clearly will her thoughts be.
it will be good.

work work work work... fucking deadlines
work work work work... fucking deadlines
work work work work... fucking deadlines
work work work work... fucking deadlines
work work work work... fucking deadlines
work work work work... fucking deadlines
work work work work... fucking deadlines
work work work work... fucking deadlines

one week
then three weeks
then 5 weeks
then 9 weeks
then fuck it all, done or not, it's done

i dunno
i ate something
but i do know if something caused a spark to happen, the apartment would blowup

instead of reading i am looking at apartment for rent ads
ugh!

It is like living with someone else, someone that you are not getting on with very well. Something I unfortunately know rather to well. In trying to do something, in this case, read, with the necessary quiet, to be able to absorb the challenging thoughts, that need so much concentration to do so, with every sound emitted from them, causing a break in concentration and a wondering if the sudden noise will go away or continue and get worse. It really brings home Steiner’s “End of Bookishness”, the need for a quiet place and how they have disappeared largely, but not only, because buildings do not provide for them, paper thin walls and floors that allow for sound, that you cannot control, enter your environment, and as hard as you try to prevent it, alter your thoughts.

so there was a lack of booze around here primarly because i fogot, so silly. i do have rum though and bought coke and had a rum and coke and holy fuck, talk about bee lining to my brain. the rum that is. now i cannot read and i seem tohave to correct every fucking word i type. sheesh
there is something interesting that happens when i see S, or kk, it is like this mini funk happens, and takes a while to get through. not sure what that is about. probably going from rather nice to bland so quickly
now i have to read about hermeneutics and am kinda shaky about it all, damn rum