Saturday, October 18, 2003
This is an entry. This is an event. This morning, the sun rose. I rose. The coffee was good and it was strong. I like good strong coffee. The darkness of the good strong coffee did soften the harshness of the sun which rose. I also rose. The coffee did not soften me. It endowed me with a rigidity of the muscle and of the bone which I find necessary to rise to occasion. A day is an occasion. Every day. This entry. This event.
