as yet no fruit has been bourne/ thus i've abandoned hope, not least for the joy of what i'd hoped for occuring against a position of pessimism/ winner i in that position or the contrary/ feeling good/ had a glorious time at house of s yester and left floating positively (not one mite of negitivity gnawing at my happiness)/ then acquired some fine foods (camambert, proscuttio of parma, org. bacon, a rather fine merlot) and constructed an exquisite late snack for the alba and i/ slept phenomenally well and post-cup of coffee to pharm. reading ibsen and bedecked in finery (scarves twain of fine cashmere and merino wool)/ have recently imbibe my first can of the day and when my tenure here expires will shop and return home for a well earned nap/ what a punishing reigeme...

feeling good/ a days abstinence yester (not voluntary but dictated by my rapidly diminishing funds) left me a little raw and twitchy the night through, but i slept pretty well and thus feel fine this glorious winter morn./ a heavy frost sits atop the leaves and grasses and as the sun drives through them they glitter like so many sparkling jewels/ it's alright/ my shit has yet to bear fruit, but i'm unconcerned as a friend said three days is standard/ well, roll on demain...