More Wetness

As I expected, a pleasant rain has been falling of and on all night, but it is not as cold as I thought it would be. Were it not for the smell of decaying leaves, the night would feel more spring-like than autumnal. Ma snacks have been in keeping with the season, though, with pomegranate, walnuts, cinnamon toast and spiced herb tea. All I need is a persimmon and some dates, and I will be ready for December.

Between drizzles, the air remains misty. The tiny drops that land on my skin tingle refreshingly, as though the air had been carbonated. I enjoy walking in the mist, though it doesn't take long for my hair and clothing to become damp, and drops of water soon trickle under my collar. When I return to the warm house, I am surrounded by the scent of wet cloth as the dampness evaporates. I have to dry off a bit before returning to my room, where Sluggo sits in the chill, next to the open window. Then I can listen to the sound of raindrops blending with the sound of the keyboard. It's not a bad way to spend a night.

Computers! Feh!

Sluggo is acting very strangely, refusing to open any pages other than Google and those at LJ. Well, I have to get to sleep, so I'll deal with it tomorrow, if it can be dealt with. In case this is the beginning of Sluggo's departure from his vale of digital tears, I want to say that it's been nice being here, and I'll be back when it's possible.

Silent

It's as though part of my brain doesn't want certain things to be written about by the part of my brain that wants to write about them. Maybe the censorious part of my brain thinks these things are too dangerous. Maybe it thinks they are embarrassing. Maybe it thinks they are a silly waste of time. And maybe it just thinks the other part of my brain doesn't write well enough to do them justice. Whatever the reason, I have started and abandoned posts several times today. They just won't be what I want them to be. Of course, it's entirely possible that I simply have no idea what I want to say. Worse, I might be getting bored with myself. I sort of expect other people to get bored with me, and that doesn't bother me. But if I get bored with myself I'm going to end up vegetating in front of the television. I just know it. Maybe I should take to drink. I might still get bored with myself, but I wouldn't know it.