I don't want there to be a blank in the archives for the month of May. I've tried writing something a few times this past month, but I never got down to it. I feel dull and uninspired. I could blame it on the heat, but it isn't the heat. Just like Frost conteplating the destruction of his wall on elves..I could say elves to him...It's been quite surprisingly pleasant this year(it's been 42 degrees Celsius instead of the usual 47). iIguess it's the lack of stimulating company. It's not like I've stopped thinking about stuff or that things have stopped affecting me, I think I'm still reeling under the shock of being in that unsteady, unbalanced phase of life again. Everything is undecided and unsure. You know, like Auden said: the best lack all conviction..I think somewhere he also says we must love one another or die... although what that has to do with anything, I cannot say. Higher and higher in the widening gyre/the falcon cannot hear the fanconer/Things fall apart; the center cannot hold/ Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world...I don't know why all this poetry is suddenly spouting forth. Maybe it's because it's representative of a time when my life was surer,with more certainity. I knew my place in the world, in the scheme of things, unlike now.