I'm in the midst of finals with two six pg. essays due tomorrow by 2 pm, and not a word yet written. So, I'll only write a brief blog today.
In the library today, as I roamed the shelves to leave, I stopped at Nietzche. It was a two-shelf section. And there in the middle, on the 2nd shelf, was Higgins' "Comic Relief". Heh. (I must buy many copies of that book and distribute them across the country in serious or depressing sections of libraries and bookstores).
I used to know I'd had a good day by the number of scabs and bruises I'd earned (climbing trees, taking risks, falling down). Now the war scars (life scars) take the form of ink stains on my hands and arms, and flour on my nose.
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