rejectomorph (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rejectomorph) wrote2024-04-24 03:33 am
rejectomorph) wrote2024-04-24 03:33 am
Reset Forty-Nine, Day Three Hundred Thirty-Four
Let's see, Tuesday. The slightly possible rain turned out to not be, but it stayed pretty cool anyway, and I slept a lot of hours and didn't damage my shoulder more while sleeping, though turning over in bed was painful and felt pretty risky, and I couldn't do my usual bedtime reading for long because to get adequate light I need to lie on the side that hurts. I won't be able to do it this morning either. Everything else about the day as been swallowed by the memory sinkhole my brain has become.
Oh, one of the feral cats my neighbor feeds and has a small shelter for on her porch got in a fight around midnight, and I had to go out and try to break it up. The cat who gets fed is accustomed to me so didn't run off, but the other one did after a minute or so of me kicking at the bush under which the fight was taking place, which is right under my bedroom window. Then the fed cat sat down in the parking area and looked at me noncommittally. It didn't seem either pleased or displeased, but at least it didn't seem to be pissed off at me for breaking up its fun.
When I was out I remembered that tonight the moon is full, so I looked up at it, but didn't say hello. Our relationship is probably over. For many years we were fairly close, but since I've been in the mini-metropolis we've just drifted apart. I don't go outside enough anymore, so it's probably my fault, although I'm pretty sure the moon doesn't much care. I doubt it ever did. The moon has never been a one-man celestial body. It has had so may lovers that one going missing probably isn't even noticed. Two more things indifferent to me I said to myself as I turned away from cat and moon and closed the door. I've given them little thought since. or one thing, the painful shoulder still distracts me. I hope it doesn't keep me awake.
I don't remember if I've posted this before or not. It's an original (and apparently untitled) piece for piano and bass by English bassist Charles Berthoud, who plays both parts. It's less than two minutes long, so if you don't like it you haven't lost much. I like it a lot, and come back to it frequently.
Oh, one of the feral cats my neighbor feeds and has a small shelter for on her porch got in a fight around midnight, and I had to go out and try to break it up. The cat who gets fed is accustomed to me so didn't run off, but the other one did after a minute or so of me kicking at the bush under which the fight was taking place, which is right under my bedroom window. Then the fed cat sat down in the parking area and looked at me noncommittally. It didn't seem either pleased or displeased, but at least it didn't seem to be pissed off at me for breaking up its fun.
When I was out I remembered that tonight the moon is full, so I looked up at it, but didn't say hello. Our relationship is probably over. For many years we were fairly close, but since I've been in the mini-metropolis we've just drifted apart. I don't go outside enough anymore, so it's probably my fault, although I'm pretty sure the moon doesn't much care. I doubt it ever did. The moon has never been a one-man celestial body. It has had so may lovers that one going missing probably isn't even noticed. Two more things indifferent to me I said to myself as I turned away from cat and moon and closed the door. I've given them little thought since. or one thing, the painful shoulder still distracts me. I hope it doesn't keep me awake.
I don't remember if I've posted this before or not. It's an original (and apparently untitled) piece for piano and bass by English bassist Charles Berthoud, who plays both parts. It's less than two minutes long, so if you don't like it you haven't lost much. I like it a lot, and come back to it frequently.