Things change in the night. The hurricane models show the hurricane eye coming across my house. When you look at the predictions, they show my address. It is a eerie feeling. Last night, I had dreams of helplessness and insignificance. L says the first sin is private property. But going back to the Creation Myth, the first sin is being. There are many sins, and each of us takes one and keeps it for our own. Our sins make us Grotesque. I'm fooling around with Sherwood Anderson's idea of Truth in "Winesburg, Ohio," but I think it holds. Thinking makes it so.
The factory has closed, and I have much to do in way of preparation today. The gas stations are out of gas, the grocery store shelves are very bare. It has just begun to rain.
Yesterday, I went to the beautician and got beautified. What can you do. Vanity. Another sin. I am Grotesque.
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