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enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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The murky sea upon which we lay down

I've had an interesting day today. Not the most productive, but not the worst day. I've worked through a few things.

I was just reading an article about The Voy@ge Out, by Virg!nia Wo0lf. Have I ever mentioned how much I Love VW? I'm a moody reader and sometimes I surprise myself by simply needing to return to something. The Y2ars is one of my favourite books.

But here's a paragraph that VW deleted from The Voy@ge when she later revised it (sad but so very evocative):


On this day indeed Rachel was conscious of what went on round her. She had come to the surface of the dark, sticky pool, and a wave seemed to bear her up and down with it; she had ceased to have any will of her own; she lay on the top of the wave conscious of some pain, but chiefly of weakness. The wave was replaced by the side of a mountain. Her body became a drift of melting snow, above which her knees rose in huge peaked mountains of bare bone. It was true that she saw Helen and saw her room, but everything had become very pale and semi-transparent. Sometimes she could see through the wall in front of her. Sometimes when Helen went away she seemed to go so far that Rachel's eyes could hardly follow her. The room also had an odd power of expanding, and though she pushed her voice out as far as possible until sometimes it became a bird and flew away, she thought it doubtful whether it ever reached the person she was talking to. There were immense intervals or chasms, for things still had the power to appear visibly before her, between one moment and the next; it sometimes took an hour for Helen to raise her arm, pausing long between each jerky movement, and pour out medicine. Helen's form stooping to raise her in bed appeared of gigantic size, and came down upon her like the ceiling falling. But for long spaces of time she would merely lie conscious of her body floating on the top of the bed and her mind driven to some remote corner of her body, or escaped and gone flitting round the room. All sights were something of an effort, but the sight of Terence was the greatest effort, because he forced her to join mind to body in the desire to remember something. She did not wish to remember; it troubled her when people tried to disturb her loneliness; she wished to be alone. She wished for nothing else in the world.

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5:09 p.m. - 2010-02-09

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Come al solito - 2011-04-16
unfettered spending - 2011-04-15
How does it go? - 2011-04-14
Whirlwind. - 2011-04-13
bleak that flips over to daffodil - 2011-04-08