Finding Solace

There are real complaints to comprehend. It has been a blissful day, avoiding the drudgery of the weather's weight. My reading has paused. My bedside book has become The Best and Brightest since I finished Children of Men. Halberstam delineates a world of privilege and access, so removed from my own local bumpkin perch. Being an autodidact, I likely mask my own insecurities, revealing them here in periodic gusts. At one time Randy had entertained a political reading group through his shop, apparently it did not come to speed. I don't really have a novel for the moment. I have decided to wait on the Pynchon until Roger and/or Joel reach p. 800 or so. It is also not the proper time for Night Watch. These intuitions remain strange and opaque.