|
|
'Kay, sibyline - let's get back on track and say no more about it.
Paranoidwriter, don't eat sibyline. She's having a hard day as it is. I'm glad you got hold of some cash, though, for both your sakes.
Recent discussion has made me think about private and public grief or rage, and how they interrelate. Does one get as sensitive about something happening in the public sphere as one does the private sphere? In a way, I guess it ties into the huge/close, small/far away thing. 54 people in London die, and it feels bigger, maybe, than 200 people in the Lebanon. One person close enough, and that blots out the sun. Which is to say that I have some knowledge of where you are, id, and where you are, Mister D, and they both seem very... sane madnesses, perhaps. Thoughts with you both.
And sorry you're having such a rotten time, Kali - I suppose that when you're actually fleeing, you don't have time to do that slow-motion running thing, either.
Fly safe, Mono - and when you come back I will see you play music. Even if I have to hire you to play in my living room, Sandy Thom style. |
|
|