and we spent nearly an hour on the phone this morning, discussing various madnesses and stratagem. i hope to purchase, read, and rant about the book soon, but this is beside the point.
the point is that my brother came by this afternoon, and our conversation ranged from gnosticism to migration patterns to the Qur'an to Warren Buffet and his derivative-writing ability. these wide swings are not atypical for our interactions, and he said cool things like "i'm not a black separatist by any means," which only begin to hint at his ability to turn Tuesday afternoons into veritable models of banter and repartee.
since then, things have slowly died down, as he, my yin and i have retreated to our respective sofas and diversions. he's trading stocks, my yin is journaling, and i'm writing about them unbeknownst to either, half spacey and rambling from fore-mentioned conversations. this is not helping me to understand his explanation of how the Chinese yuan is bought, sold, and revalued for the purposes of pension plan investment. this, too, is beside the point.
the point is that all this peaceful, idyllic mountain living is growing on me – good food, nice weather, surrounded by family. the only downside, as far as i can see, is that this machine in my lap seems less appealing with each passing day, and it's serving as an amazing reminder that we, as humans, are meant to breathe and live and be. i watch the words dribble out, watch my attention shift to the people around me, to the breeze coming through the window
un
til
it
the motivation to write, at all,
stops.
Tears come as i read your words. So raw and real to me. Blessings t
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