An odd day, no doubt. An odd week. Hell, an odd month. Some character from some book I cannot quite remember saying “The signs align!”, the writing is on the wall but it might be a code. Aye, there’s the rub » To decode is the first step to the consequent action, and in this world– so suspicious of the Voices, you know– it might be wise to pause before running the ol’ schizo-crypto-analysis. Brings to mind the Emerson dilemma, when he is asked about the voice– the inner voice– that he follows; what if it is not God’s voice, but the Devil’s? Since I was 16 I have loved his answer. So perhaps I have given you an asymmetry there, the old “Look before you leap” but “He who hesitates is lost”. I am not ashamed, though– as I just read on the Atheism Web:

Secondly, logic is not a set of rules which govern human behavior. Humans may have logically conflicting goals.

.: In truth, it feels like today was set adrift, floating still close to the shores of Reality (I can see it from here!) but moving at a very different pace, a meandering lazy current. I have a pervasive feeling of disconnection, like some better part of me is laughing and knowing that that which my senses is describing to me is not quite real, but let’s go along with it for the pure hell of it.
.: I keep looking up, out the darkened window, and expecting to see the hummingbird mother, tucked into her nest… but I don’t see her, or them– they have disappeared…

Tucker had recounted for me how the eggs did hatch, and for a day there were two impossibly small hummingbird babies, black and stunted, curled amidst the breast-feathers that the mother had patiently woven over the last number of weeks. But then, by the time I returned from New York, they were gone. I fear the worst.

Dark outside, and inside the silence that follows the angst-scream of Sunny Day Real Estate when the CD is finally stopped. Trying to find an anchor.