A LITTLE HIGHTOWER IS A POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS THING FOR A DULLED BRAIN, HUNGOVER FROM A SINGLE BEER LAST NIGHT

6:30 .....awaken the dead....so much for my plan to get a 'good night's sleep'.......caffeine and pastry fix.......with some arduous 'hands adjustments' on some antique vest pocket watches.....distracted, easily enough, by a 1951 adaptation of Patricia Hightower's STRANGERS ON A TRAIN and THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY......and, some Gabriel Yared and Nat King Cole.......wafting from the kitchen radio.....toppling dominos of not quite random poetic juxtapositions........

I felt particularly fragmented after re-reading some Hightower ....... Fragmentation seems to be a Theme of her novels; consequentially, I made a rather unflattering self-portrait of myself as one of her pathetic characters...

seque into abstraction.....reflecting on Patricia Hightower's studies of personality fragmentation......before returning from the Twilight Zone to the rising sun on a cold morning......10 am....time to 'get it together' for more mundane preoccupations......but first......another cup of java, I think, before burning some useless books in the fireplace......."431" on the new baking thermometer... I've not lost my Mind......Just letting it ramble about in its bony cage for a while, before the rather dull and disincentive organization of stacks of Paper......