I don't believe I have much to write about just now. But I said that I would write something. So ...

...Nice weather we're having, isn't it? Chilly. Good weather for - er. Sweaters and scarves and, you know. Gloves. Red leaves. Chestnuts roasting an open fire.

I don't have anything to write, really. There isn't anything going on in my life, that' ( Read more... )

To-day was warm, very warm, though I spent most of it within doors and in the cool, but when the sun went down, so did the temperature. Now I sit here with my fingers almost too chilled to hold a pen, having to ink out a quarter of all the words I write, and my old brown coat is getting a little threadbare - the cold is coming through the patch in ( Read more... )

She says my glasses are definitely not right but it's as close as I'm getting without being played by W.B. Yeats.

...Whatever. She says that is rather anachronistic, too, but she'll let it slide for now.

Dreams are an odd sort of thing, you know? For instance, the one I had last night. Very odd. Queer, in fact.

Time goes on.

There's another lawyer almost around. Well - 'another' isn't the right word to use. I never actually made it to become one. I barely even started my classes, much less took, much LESS passed the exams. Nonetheless, I pretentiously chose my alias from my parentally-selected profession-in-the-sky. Ah, well ( Read more... )

To-day I read a story about a man who puts his soul into a picture. I wish I could draw a picture like that.

I also saw a cloud that was shaped like a crown.