Archive > February 2004

Day Eleven.

February 29, 2004. Easy like Sunday morning. Another beautifully clear day here in the land of rain. It doesn

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Day Ten.

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Days Eight and Nine.

February 27, 2004 Numb, but not comfortable. Question:

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To wit and to nothing.

I would have entitled this “day eight,” but honestly I don’t have the energy or desire to write out another “this is what happened today” piece.

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A poem.

“Stillness.”

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Day Seven.

February 24, 2004 Letting go. I have to stop worrying. I mean really stop. I have given myself a stomach ache for the past two days worrying about every possible thing

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Day Six.

February 23, 2004 Taxis, trains, and cold. I spent my last night and morning in Cork leisurely getting ready for my trip to Dublin.

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Day Five.

February 22, 2004 The day of rest. Sundays are a very strange time. They hold the expectation of the upcoming week, but still beg for the trippingly-slow pace that comes only when we are willing to forgo our responsibilities and relax.

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