The Weather: "You Don't Have To Name It"

"You want God to laugh? Tell him about your plans." --Amores Perros

I just had a great Saturday with my brother. We went to Brittany Bay, ate burger for lunch, had coffee, then on the way home, while drizzling, I vomited on the street the liters of water I drank at the cafe.

At home, we watched, "Amores Perres," a film that reminded me of Sannrise--which reminded me that "hope is severed from expectation," as Ms. Michaels put it quite well.

It's nebulous, how I'm feeling, I don't know the things I have, I don't know them, because I don't have a name for them.

To name is to limit, to capture, yes, in a way. But what if I give a wrong name, what if I assume? I'll just force the circle into the square. But then I agree man makes miracles and that "everything is in everything else," as Mr. Paterson put it quite well.

And I like the advice, not having to name it. To just stand at an approximation, though so worried now, I like not being worried about an end. Dot dot dot.

I'm just scared, maybe. Fear is noble; it's quite cool, in fact. I'm lazy.

Let it be, let it be. But let is also a verb, an action as consequential as pull.

The present is quite disappointing, yet like you, would I really rather be elsewhere?

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