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When your hero has such an effect on their world, that they build statues in ours, you haven't just created; you've given birth.

A Confederacy of Lazy Bloggers

I haven't posted anything in a couple of days. I'm being lazy on purpose with Literature Every Day because the last thing I want is for this to feel like work. Right now, A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole is under my eyes for the 2nd time, probably the funniest book I have read to date. I love being in cahoots with the protagonist and the quixotic  Ignatius J. Reilly
  has a self serving perception rivaling  Don Quixote himself, which leaves him with only one true
 friend, me. The more I read, the more I identify; and so is the case with most books I read. I suppose finding different sides of my story, draws me to literature more than the story told. I am curious as to who will be my favorite and who I will see myself in; at times they are the same person, at times I am not even on the page.

9 am and 10 pm? This blog's gonna be nuts. ( Jim Beam on sale for 21 a handle)

Short thought today. I don't feel well.. something weighs a hundred pounds on my chest and it hasn't budged all day today. All I want to, or at least have the energy to say is, how hilarious it is when I play an online game and despite how complex and detailed the game may be.... I can'thelp judging the creator for spelling defense d-e-f-e-n-c-e. Have a good night.. porvafor

The Dream

Sometimes, I wake up in the morning with no recollection of the story just played in my head. I know I dreamt because I can still feel the lingering emotions without knowing their source. Flashes of faces or specific feelings are random waves of clarity. Sometimes I pull a Sherlock, and try to put together whatever moments of dream still exsist in my mind however fleeting. But on days like today, when I wake up  almost drained.. without having taken a step out of my bed... I have to figure maybe I'll leave this one where it lies, where I lay.

This has always been one of my favorite paintings. It is a Goya from his  Los Caprichos series. The translated script reads "the dream of reason brings forth monsters". A truer self portrait