Please say a prayer for us. Mrs. Guidroz just died; she was my uncle Byron’s mother, and a sweet, blithe, and pleasant soul.
Lux æterna luceat eis, Domine, cum sanctis tuis in æternum, quia pius es. Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine; et lux perpetua luceat eis.
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Now playing: Palestrina , Giovanni Pierluigi Da - Agnus Dei
via FoxyTunes
When you find material like this:
Fortune is admirable, but the conquest of misfortune is more admirable.
—Seneca
You ask, “Where’s the citation? When did he say that? Where?” It’s really quite maddening.
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Now playing: Toad The Wet Sprocket - She Cried
via FoxyTunes
Here is a poem by Marie Under which sang to me while youth still kept me company:
Let me hold your hands in resignation,
Soldier, whom this mortal strife must take.
Soon my hands will fold in supplication
For your own and all your comrades’ sake.Now your changing face is even dearer.
I recall you as a schoolboy when
You first left me. Come, dear child, come nearer!
You have grown mature in wood and fen.Yet your vivid eyes are still ingenuous,
Though they must have witnessed what is vile—
Things that men will do when life is strenuous
And resorts to cruelty and guile.Do not stand there rigid and unspeaking;
In your glance are things that cry for breath.
Which of those two lords of man is seeking
To command your valor, Life or Death?
My name is Daniel Morris. In the late summer of 2002, a mosquito bit and infected me with the West Nile virus. That virus grew in my body, covering my skin with its rashes, broiling my mind with its fevers, and attacking my brain with its poisons; around 9:02 AM on August 14, 2002, my mind flickered, and faded almost to black.
Crushing fatigue consumed me, and cruel memory loss. Speech impediments followed. Trembling. Weakness. Seizures. A lone, ravenous headache chewed through my skull like a wolf and drug me through the undergrowth of the next four years. In defense, I retreated behind a wall of sleep, sometimes sleeping through twenty hours a day, or more.
On October 2, I started blogging as self-imposed therapy for my savaged intellect. That blog endured until Hurricane Katrina remade my life yet again. Katrina haunts me still, and her unkind hands sullied everything. My blog flickered and faded, almost to black.
This blog is not that blog, but it shares the same name. For the moment, only its poor skeleton stands here, barely clinging to time and space and meaning, but more is coming. More is coming.