The cat's eyes glinting in the morning like broken glass, like trash left on the street from the night before. How much passes between night and day...
The false notes accumulate, making a strange sounding tune. A life lived without rigour or discipline is always susceptible of having those things imposed on it. There is a ' looseness' that originates from a particular kind of temperament; and there is another that comes from much wondering, displacement, and falling back on some default mode of decision making so that one's life resembles a hotch potch of isolated and arbitrary events, stitched together without a text or true image to refer to.
The fascination with Geneva, 1541. That someone could be whipped for having two slices of bread instead of one. There is something fanatical in human nature, like a big, thick black line drawn to negate our words.
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