I thought I wouldn't see much but clouds today, but now they're blowing out; each time I look, blue and gold have advanced further across the sky.
The gray clouds are only a vast, distant wall on the horizon now. The sun's glare is muted by the whiter, wispier clouds, and it looks like parts of the sky are filled with a vapor of luminescent champagne, a sky to lose oneself in. I feel sometimes that one could gain all worthwhile wisdom by staring at skies like this one.
I am all by myself in the house, since yesterday afternoon and until tomorrow's. This is almost certainly the eye of the hurricane - my parents were not feeling especially well-inclined toward me when they left to go camping - but right now, with no worries and music blasting downstairs, peace and a perverse kind of quiet prevail.
I may well be writing entries on paper and posting them from school for some time; exactly how persistent my parents' wrath is has yet to be seen.
The way the ink flows out of the pen and curls into letters, words, and then thoughts seems so implausible when I look at it.
This is how I plan to spend my weekend, running reels of rambling dimestore philosophy and snickering gently whenever I care to see how true it is, and yet how silly.
posted on Saturday, October 25, 2003
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