Another Dark Little Corner

moon phases

Started this before change to "New Blogger", as backup in case of trouble with digiphoto blog "In a Small Dark Room", or rants & links blog "Hello Cruel World" . Useful - at one stage Dark Room was there, but like the astrophysical Dark Matter, we could't see it ... better now, but kept Just In Case.

Your ABC

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There is nothing. There is no God and no universe, there is only empty space, and in it a lost and homeless and wandering and companionless and indestructible Thought. And I am that thought. And God, and the Universe, and Time, and Life, and Death, and Joy and Sorrow and Pain only a grotesque and brutal dream, evolved from the frantic imagination of that same Thought.
Mark Twain (letter to Joseph Twichell after his wife's death)
[me, on a bad day]

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Five Years On  
110 Stories
by John M. Ford
This is not real. We've seen it all before.
Slow down, you're screaming. What exploded? When?
I guess this means we've got ourselves a war.
And look at -- Lord have mercy, not again ...

Once more, we'll all remember where we were ...

You live, is how you learn that you can cope< ...
Five Years On; Remembering: a news flash during the late-night Channel 9 slot of West Wing. Changing channels through many hours that followed, watching CNN, BBC, whatever feeds were available. A quick call to friend A, who now had a TV, as the news about Washington was confusedly coming through: "This looks serious." The black blossom of smokey dust that burst out as the first tower collapsed, with me caught, frozen in horror, holding to the kitchen door jamb as I'd gone to get a hot drink when the chill, deeper than the simple temperature of a spring night, crept over my nightdressed body. My mind bouncing between sheer pity & terror, speculating the purpose & proponents, worrying what use was going to be made of this, what this distraction would be used to shield. So very sad, now, that so many of my worries and speculations have come to pass. So fearful that more will.

You live, is how you learn that you can cope.

I'm not altogether sure this living counts as coping. It comes and goes.

Five years. So much has happened — deaths & illnesses & moving house — in my life, but it all seems not so long ago. The years spin so quickly past, even as some long nights & days stretch out almost beyond bearing.

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