Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Monday, July 6, 2015

7.8

I know it has been a hot summer night and we're stuck to the insides of our shirts. I feel a well-suited weariness, like I have earned a stop and a breath. I can see the horizon from ere, and I know we must be past it by sunrise. This all cannot change me; this rock I collapsed on has a most magnificent view. I prefer to stay a while.

[I kept up a rapid pace with the Top 40 for a good while, but recently my mind was drawn to other matters. I have been editing wikipedia and I'm pretty proud of what I've done. Now there's a chance other people will look at it and be as well-informed as I am. Because I am an expert. Haha no.]
[I might not get to the Top 40 for a while longer, either. I'm writing plays for next year at Camp Winnekeag, maybe. Two sets of seven plays, which is a lot to ask. Anyway, that's going to probably eat the rest of my summer, and I might get some money and pride out of it. I'll poke music in where I can. I'm not . . . I'm not actually a musical person, I'm finding. Without choir dragging me in, I just don't music very often.]