Sunday January 3

It's difficult to describe the mood I'm in at this period of my life, generally speaking:  A sense of trying to struggle up from underrwater:  that is, I feel weighted, and to some degree pressured, by experience and knowledge; I'm no longer buoyed up by optimism, or perhaps simply callowness; and I find I'm always looking at clocks, checking the time, worried about how much I have left, be it at work or on my day off or more generally, and wondering always if I'll have time enough to break the water's surface and breathe . . .

Wednesday January 6

Pro-Trump protesters stormed the Capital Building today, pushing past barricades, swarming past police, with violence at some points apparently, though film footage is sketchy and rumors are various.  Once inside, the protesters appeared fairly calm though also belligerent, looking to my mind more than anything else like arrogant children who want to just take what they want and bust up everything else.

Well, I thought, this is what it's like to live through a Moment in History.  I was glued to news shows pretty much all day, but whenever I looked about the store or stopped to listen to customers talking, all I saw was people meandering about as usual, talking the usual everyday whatever.  They had no idea a revolutionary coup was being attempted.  Or, just as likely, they've grown so used to protests that this seemed like nothing more than the latest one.

To the rest of the world it must have looked chaotic, volatile, dangerous.  I've seen footage of mass protests taking place in the capitals of other countries.  Such a mess they always looked.  Chaotic, volatile, dangerous.  Now that's us.

Saturday January 9

William Wilson – Stands as a sort of exorcism, I suppose.

I also notice in Poe a consistent moral retraction to a life of 'sin,' debauchery, self-indulgence.  There are no stories to be found there (as there are, say, for O'Neill, and I wonder what Dorian Gray would have to say?), only a kind of moral horror.

Not my favorite story.  Its 'singularity' rests in the use of a symbolic character meant to represent the conscience.  All of which results in a tale that, to my mind at least, creaks.

Sunday January 10

The shadows of the early morning dawn lie hideously exposed


The possibility of Trump having to be removed by some form of force now exists.  Even around here people begin to feel it – a slight nervousness, as if we felt the tremors of a distant earthquake.

Tuesday January 12

Hunched against the wind, a smoker and his flame