Sunday, September 16, 2007

half a thought

I had a thought while writing this morning, of the ways we pass judgment on others in our misery, that there is something stuck-up about the way we feel sorry for ourselves, in the isolation we feel from others.

It's gone, or nearly so, and yet it was almost perfect. I was beginning to understand something, to see it in a new light.

Why do I prefer Sunday mornings to be alone with my brooding thoughts?

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