I read two books, watched three and a half movies (technically one and a half were rewatches), and made myself a couple of meals. I did not burn down the kitchen when the rice pudding caught on fire. I did not go outside in the intermittently freezing rain, either. I listened repeatedly to Loma's "Black Willow," a song I am finding almost apocalyptically haunting, and interspersed it with O'Hooley & Tidow's "Gentleman Jack." I petted cats. I expect I will need to spend tomorrow working and I resent it because I would rather be writing about movies, but as an experiment in aggressive self-care, I think this weekend was actually great. It was not uncomplicated. I would like to have slept more. I would like the inside of my head to feel safer and it feels much less safe whenever I am doing something that I enjoy. It was worth it. I guess I should tell the doctor.
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- 1: Did karma do you justice when you're down and out and lost?
- 2: Distant as a northern star
- 3: And deregulate the couple at the bottom end
- 4: You don't have to fly into the sun
- 5: I had no inkling of just how far the plates of our continents would crack
- 6: And we're on the right side of the ground where they bury the bones
- 7: I'm not related to anyone
- 8: You are a case of the vapours
- 9: Now I feel like Kafka with a bad migraine
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- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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