six messages in my e-mail

I was well on my way to one of my better sleeps, when a little before five a coughing fit overcame me. Although I tried to get at least another precious hour of sleep, I was not free from that cough and I gave up on sleep, making it a five o'clock morning.

Besides, I was in the middle of a debate in "Christianity", and my mind was abuzz with that.

I have six messages in my e-mail. It's funny. I cry out for more e-life, and now that I have it, I only feel a dread about opening up the messages.

* * *

Yikes, I see my post is even highlighted on the home page!

elephant ears

I put in some effort on pulling out the tall grass at the plot of elephant ears on this trash day. It looks a little better, but I feel like telling Pop to go ahead and have Jack whack it all down, even if we lose some elephant ears in the process. Indeed, I even consider asking Pop if he would like to do away with the ears altogether, so long as it is agreed that nothing else would go up in its place.

1984 (2,5) Over Mr. Charrington's Shop

Despite all the busy preparations for Hate Week, Julia and Winston still manage to find some appreciable time at their love nest, and it is amazing what a good sex life can do for you, even in Oceania.

_ _ _

In the room over Mr Charrington's shop, when they could get there, Julia and Winston lay side by side on a stripped bed under the open window, naked for the sake of coolness. The rat had never come back, but the bugs had multiplied hideously in the heat. It did not seem to matter. Dirty or clean, the room was paradise. As soon as they arrived they would sprinkle everything with pepper bought on the black market, tear off their clothes, and make love with sweating bodies, then fall asleep and wake to find that the bugs had rallied and were massing for the counter-attack.

Four, five, six -- seven times they met during the month of June. Winston had dropped his habit of drinking gin at all hours. He seemed to have lost the need for it. He had grown fatter, his varicose ulcer had subsided, leaving only a brown stain on the skin above his ankle, his fits of coughing in the early morning had stopped. The process of life had ceased to be intolerable, he had no longer any impulse to make faces at the telescreen or shout curses at the top of his voice. Now that they had a secure hiding-place, almost a home, it did not even seem a hardship that they could only meet infrequently and for a couple of hours at a time. What mattered was that the room over the junk-shop should exist. To know that it was there, inviolate, was almost the same as being in it. The room was a world, a pocket of the past where extinct animals could walk.

-- 1984

Christian discussion

It has been a slow day blogging-wise as that Christian discussion has taken a lot of energy. I can almost prefer zero e-mails, but now that it seems to be done, I appreciate the conversational/debate exercise, and I got another friend along with a few more sets of eyes looking over my journal. The confrontation really does chew on my nerves, though.

http://christianity.livejournal.com/4116666.html#comments

Squeaky

Wow, I see Squeaky has given in to the dark side and has gone into ads in a big way. A new page pops up, and, then, on one's profile page, key words for ads are highlighted for someone to click to yet other ads. I only stash my porn there, so I am not seriously bothered. It's just that ads usually mean more scrutiny over content, which is a little worrisome.

Annabel Lee

It has been a long time since we have done some straight poetry. So,let's do this neat set-up of a Poe classic.



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