and so i put down brothers in arms. what did i want from it. it doesn't matter. i wanted to feel the reality of it. the place of war, from this center of power that exports and foments war yet has no memory or experience of war. the experience we have is removed from the experience we cause. we're just a part of it. the world goes on, with us, without us, within and without. and so now i'm reading the world goes on. 

...an infinite melancholy seized my soul...what shall i compare it to, it was like honey-you know...

the man in the book talks of when a circus came with a giant whale in a box car. that was when it began. my mind wends back to a moment in the back yard in mount zion illinois when a giant shadow soared over me, its wingspread swallowing me. i felt a lunge inside, a dread and a wonder, and that was the moment, if i could identify one moment of time, melancholy entered me. i remember my feeble attempt to tell somebody. nobody believed me but me. the rest of life would be me trying to corroborate myself. and bring my melancholy self to bear, a shadow on the world, while the world goes on.