Applewaithe v Cunningham; October to November.

"Contained within the lights and darknesses of our age modern, we have not in fact so much glanced the bottom: at bottom we find our truest most unadulterated person, perhaps: for it is an academic question that life's participants cannot take up with any accuracy while they are in the curve of the sphere. It is much like the great ship: one does not but ponder the hull of the great ship from within, and from without one is constituent to the musings in re delights within. Whether a myriad or the shortest straw, one does from one's vantage point, this writer and your Humble Narrator supposes.

The snows from such vantage points are not more than our own questions, I wot, and within the light of that newfangled age are our only condescending of any sort of doubt. In the parlance of Cassius Cunningham, "people who care about stuff are all GAY"; one's expectations need not be closer or farther than they appear. And yet, objects may be very much indeed nearer than the eyes convince.

Of course, one only speaks from one's own experiences, and what impurtinences were pointed his way, one does not bother to spend their wonderment.

Thought, of course, is the truest light, in the forests of the night: that axefell scalpular instrumentation that shows man the lay of the land, and provides the incite of providing sight to the soul. From tortured echoes to the finery of the eyeglass screws of the the thinking instrument do we sit so abridged from second to second. My friend is just that top ruffle that is preserved for polite company: one could take it or leave it, the suds of root beer, or worse still, the worm in the tequila.

all of that, and more, from a simple concept: reason is the shining light that man wields in this world."

It lay of the leather covering of his desk, and I wondered if Applewaithe intended a bit for public consumption or in fact had simply emptied his brain of all the askew pieces to the purpose of revisiting at another time. He was quite renowned for his taking of ethnhick restaurants, yoga pants models, finding ways to repurpose common objects as sources of gratification: what he was not known for was the unfolding of his mind.

Al Green, bitches.

As all in the environ turned an unassuming, inviolate lifeless white, I reasoned such there was importune hopelessness in the crowd, and being a rust-caked terry of stubbornness , I was at pains to address that, before any in distance, and indeed, all the heavens and the earth. In the choked distance, there was the trudge spoken of, some 4-5 days of rain--but damn did it--and further aridity in the manner that the tomatoes, late-year extras that they were, would not, could not, and otherwise refused to ripen.

Sitting on a log, eye'ing the weather.

Sleeping soundly in the oblivion of time, October faded to black and November edged its way nearer and nearer into view. Our warmest of that elapsed period was three days before the nearest edge, and the coldest the said nearest edge itself. Grateful spates of dryness and rain on the periphery, dryness and rain, dryness and rain, from mudpits to dust devils--all that livelong day.