“No one is ever spared except in dreams.” — W. H. Auden, from “Herman Melville” #MelvilleMonday 🐳

The death of something only enlivens it unlike the death of someone.

“…et le vrai qui ne l’est plus, et le faux qui ne l’est pas encore.” (Beckett, Watt)

In between and around are places for things to say. And that dagger that appears every so often---once in a while. The words culminate there for one's own sake in the larger picture at hand. Today is a break from such places. Such deeds. Tomorrow counts no less. Just the same.

A pattern we are all mixed up in.

The economy and world are one big 'campaign.'

Death is a number still being counted---not a statistic but an ailment. Suffered throughout life and beyond. Under various guises and names. A crutch if you will if not destiny. A moment declared by many. Most. Home for the sake of it. A curious motto nonetheless for life itself.

Geography is anywhere on the planet and counts as one.

Philip Larkin

From the end of W.S Merwin’s poem called ‘Berryman’—

'Truth' is like a moment of sense we all seem to have together. It is not a constant but a saturation point if not threshold and happening. It occurs---comes and goes. It's leaving forgotten again until all else has passed. I remember it. Like the label good it sense supports us.

I do not think, therefore I do not am.

you could fix me but it would ruin me

Getting through life requires a road map that is not for sale.

Alright redbicycle What do you say Let’s try another year

Philosophy likes to pretend that it is the "queen of the humanities." In reality, it's literature. It's always been literature. Philosophy, theology, human nature, history, culture, language, artistic creativity, sociology, economics, politics...all is embedded in literature.

Truth is tamer than fiction.