Monday to Wednesday I still get up early. At about 8 me-never put into operation at all, just in case. And Otto heels biting me while I go to the bathroom. Then lies on the pad or sneaking into a room and get done with a piece of clothing to feel a little closer to us. I will take it off, of course, because I need my clothes. And while I rub the tummy sleeping and I find myself thinking how could such a creature is so alive. Or live simply. Because live is infinite and brief word at a time. At 8:30 am and breakfast. Campurrianas milk and cookies, of course. But breakfast the memory of his eleven cookies. Those breakfastOtto comes home to meet her at the door. At 4, badminton. And at 6 I'm going to poetry. Starts at 6. We spoke of poets, decide what is poetry and what is not poetry, then we try to be poets, we read and correct ourselves. Typically, we're leaving at 9. And then we go to coffee forever. Red and orange walls. Friday nights laughing at the back table. At 9:30 I try to go home to dinner and waiting for me.
On Wednesday, like today, I have come to philosophers of antiquity. Step from myth to logos. And today we find out why we are and think as we think. I'm at 11 and I leave home or the library. Spend hours in the library. In the afternoon, about 6,
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