New Digs

I am living through a very large change. I think it is rather good; it does discomfit me, but it does not cause pain, rather it seems to alleviate my pains - real and imagined.

The "new digs" are my spiritual rooms, so to speak. I feel like Charles Ryder, and had gotten rooms on the ground floor facing the quad, and my cousin Jasper told me a number of times that I would fall in with the wrong crowd. And so I did, for years and years. Even Sebastian could not save me.

I feel both mellowed and short-tempered, but the temperament is reserved for the truly knavish and stupid and craven, of which we have a good deal to spice up our lives.

It is a little hard to grab on to one concept I want to deal with, so I have not written.

I did introduce my step-grandson to poetry, however, and he introduced me to DJ art with turntables. We get along well, one reason being that I never lost a childish sense of amazement and interest in everything going on about me. In fact, he is much more "set in his ways" than I am.

We touched on death of a parent: he lost his mother last year, I lost my father this year. It was a brief portion of a talk, mostly on my part, saying how utterly unique the experience is.
I did not say things like "If you ever want to talk about death, I'm here." That's for TV and parents.

When you speak of eternity, it echoes endlessly and does not need further comment, for when someone has been with you when you spoke of eternity, they will remember even at the ends of the universe. It is a quantum entanglement type thing

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