Reset Fifty, Day Thirty-Eight

[rejectomorph]

There's no telling what I'm doing, so vague my thoughts are, but diner wasn't a problem because I forgot it altogether. I didn't need to cook and I didn't need to eat, because it all fell into the hole were my memory used to be. Actually I did eat something, but didn't notice while it was happening, so I had recourse to forensic evidence and deduced that I ate some chips and had a cup of vinho verde, a nice dry Portuguese sparkling white wine.

I remember the wine now because there was still a bit in the cup for identification, but I still don't actually remember eating the chips. They simply aren't in the bag anymore. I could drink more of the wine and be half in the bag myself, but probably won't. I think I'll make an early night of it. I forgot to charge the phone and so lost Idernet, or I would already have gone to sleep. It's charging now and will soon be full, ahead of me, ahead of the moon, and then I will go to bed and maybe sleep. Who knows? Nobody knows, nobody ever knows, not even The Shadow.




Sunday Verse

I Am In Need Of Music

by Elizabeth Bishop


I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!

There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.