[ text ID: I am sitting at my kitchen table waiting for my lover to arrive with lettuce and tomatoes and rum and sherry wine and a big floury loaf of bread in the fading sunlight. Coffee is percolating gently, and my mood is mellow. I have been very happy lately, just wallowing in it selfishly, knowing it will not last very long, which is all the more reason to enjoy it now. I suppose life always ends badly for almost everybody. We must have long fingers and catch at whatever we can while it is passing near us. ]

happy "everyone forgets that icarus also flew" monday. i want to throw up !

[TEXT ID: One explanation for Guenever, for what it is worth, is that she was what they used to call a ‘real’ person. She was not the kind who can be fitted away safely under some label or other, as “loyal’ or 'disloyal’ or self-sacrificing or jealous. Sometimes she was loyal and sometimes she was disloyal. She behaved like herself. And there must have been something in this self, some sincerity of heart, or she would not have held two people like Arthur and Lancelot. Like likes like, they say — and at least they are certain that her men were generous. She must have been generous too. It is difficult to write about a real person END ID]

Guys please keep me in your thoughts. Nothing happened, I just want you to think about me