081513 #human Wake up. Confused, off, suffused in vague regret, as if you didn't know you'd done it again: the small avoidance, the minute concession, the sucking and chewing, the little death by devouring, Peter don't you know what you have done? Angry at bedtime, you pushed them away again--the kids, your dreams, your lightness--your fear of the ordinary once more has closed you down, sealed you off, surgically attacked the possibility of transcendence. You gave in to saying no. Mornings are made of honesty. You cannot pretend you do not know this.