September 30, 2013

Windows open last night, one of summer’s late hurrahs. Complicated dreams of philosophy. I had developed a magnificent one, related somehow to string theory, which made sense in the dream but, at morning, leaves not a wrack behind.

Arrived late for Cantaria, while they were singing their Pride medley. The sound was thrilling, magnificent. Accuracy was not their long suit, but it needn’t be in the County Plaza.

Oddly beneficent all day, as if the Invisible Adversary and I were at peace. It’s far better. I’d live that way if I could.