J. walked across kitchen floor in white socks, socks instantly became gross. Must mop kitchen floor. Excuse for not noticing earlier: I don't wear white socks.
Finish Bertrand Russell's enormous history of Western philosophy. I'm only at Aquinas right now. I must swallow more Aquinas, I must devour the world. Having done this, I will feel competent to actually go read Kant or Spinoza or someone.
Cat, why are you cying?
I really need a haircut.
The "critical crux" of Lolita. Well, we know that; it's solipsism and the tyranny of unchecked aestheticism. But how to make that interesting in six pages.
German. I am still making flashcards. I am up to the letter E. I sneaked a peek at some Adorno yesterday and I still can't fucking read it.
Entropy is settling like a blanket. There are places where the books should be, and the books are not there. The coffee mugs have undergone a diaspora and are all over my desk. The beer bottles contain no beer.
Finish Culture and Imperialism. It's a TARDIS-book. It's too large to possibly fit inside that slim paperback cover.
There's some other reading in the future. Olaudah Equiano, photocopies, essays. I still haven't finished that other book on Maya shamanism.
Cat litter migrates from the litterbox. It forms cat-litter dunes that take three days and nights to cross. They bury the head of Ozymandias.
500 words/day, 500 words/day, I am a little train that says 500 words/day, even if it is like pulling an ore cart up a mountain half the time. Have to break 104 today.