Every Day

Nine o’clock.

The things I see each day are much the same. While there’s nothing to complain about really, I’m also not very happy. Who is happy that is alone? But I’m not going to church today to get an infusion of theology. I’m sick of the brainwashing, and I wish I could undo everything I learned over five years. Now, the framework for all of my thoughts is Christianity, pretty much. My parents lived outside of this box, but the moral classification for them would be epicurean. They didn’t know what they were, however. Is it fair to slap a label on people, such as hedonist or epicure or whatever? Sometimes I get tired of the history of philosophy and religion in the West and want to be ignorant of it all. The more I know, the unhappier I grow. I think the story of Odin’s perfect wisdom is right. His knowledge was a terrible burden and made him melancholy and sad. It makes him a lovable god to me for some reason. And the cost for his wisdom? An eyeball.

It is ten minutes till ten: I guess I’m not at church today.

Yesterday morning, Gloria stopped the car in the bookstore parking lot where two Latinos had a truckload of fresh fruits. She rolled down the window and asked about the oranges. The man gave her a sample and said it was “quince” for a bag. So she actually bought one, a move that kind of surprised and impressed me. You don’t see that every day.

Also yesterday, I ran across the street to Roger’s house to ask him how to dispose of an old propane blowtorch. He told me he would take care of it. Again I was surprised. But why was I surprised? This is the real question.

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