Has been raining since last night and likely through out the day. I am at home. Today, nothing is about me.
And nothing is about you. Any you. Any of the you’s that you have become accustomed to reading about.
In fact, nothing is about anything because I have no words to write.
This is neither sad nor tragic nor bittersweet nor pity-begging.
This is just the way it is right now. Blah and empty.
I am reminded of a story of Plato and Diogenes the Sinope:
Plato was discoursing on his theory of ideas and, pointing to the cups on the table before him, said while there are many cups in the world, there is only one `idea‘ of a cup, and this cupness precedes the existence of all particular cups.
“I can see the cup on the table,” interrupted Diogenes, “but I can’t see the `cupness‘”.
“That’s because you have the eyes to see the cup,” said Plato, “but”, tapping his head with his forefinger, “you don’t have the intellect with which to comprehend `cupness‘.”
Diogenes walked up to the table, examined a cup and, looking inside, asked, “Is it empty?”
“Where is the `emptiness‘ which precedes this empty cup?” asked Diogenes.
Plato allowed himself a few moments to collect his thoughts, but Diogenes reached over and, tapping Plato’s head with his finger, said “I think you will find here is the `emptiness‘.”
On another note, here is my thrifted ensemble, worn yesterday.
Steve Madden boots
Chelsea Campbell sheath dress
Ann Loft cardigan
Ralph Lauren belt
Fossil and Anne Klein watches