it was a good day, and it may be a shallow admission, but the sun had a lot to do with it. plus mister, his smile is a like a sunflower. light is not shallow, light is shallow and deep, like water, like reflection. if i write about the evils of the empire it doesn't mean i'm having a bad day, less i'm writing about the evils of empire on a lonely grey day. any day, even a real good day with a smiling mister and fluffy clouds floating in deep light blue space is a bad day for empire, even if you bury your head in the clouds or engage in pleasurably dissipating activity. i think about terror on a lovely day. is it normal business or terror? what is considered acceptable business for the businessmen of empire is doubtless terror to those they practice their particular brand of business upon. i had a perfect day, though that's a simple phrase to say it was better than good, and i have no notion of what perfect would really mean, like utterly without a flaw, it couldn't be, not in this world. but i had two sweet and lovely walks with my best friend and i trimmed my beard and i visited my studio and i got 9 movies at the library and a fresh loaf of california sourdough and encountered zero haters and many lovers, so it was as they say a halcyon day, though it is never, ever a good day for empire.
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