'however long one thinks or dreams...'

'a nice long letter from my mother with a good deal about daisy...' kilvert on this day in 1871.

soon his secret will come out - he is leaving clyro. 

six years ago horsemouth was playing a solo gig at waterintobeer (thanks martin). 

horsemouth is back from sunny ewyas harold. (shopping mission - hereford times and eggs).  

he also got a can of chopped tomatoes and a can of red kidney beans (just in case - because that and pasta is pretty much a meal (ok onions would be nice)). 

he walked about a mile each way. up onto the common. across the common. down into the village. 

the tomatoes are nearly done (the peppers likewise). the onions went long ago. the spinach he should try and make some inroads on before the frosts come and kill it. 

horsemouth would like the thoreau to pop out of the racks but it seems to have vanished back into them. where is goethe on his italian journey on this day in 1786? 

he is in rome and he's loving it,

'I am now in a state of clarity and calm such as I had not known for a long time. my habit of looking at and accepting things as they are without pretension i s standing me in good stead and makes me secretly very happy. each day brings me some new remarkable object, some new great picture, and a whole city which the imagination will never encompass, however long one thinks or dreams...' 

horsemouth is trying to watch a clip of triple negative gig. it is as if it is purposely designed not to fit into the world. most bands are filthily dull and predictable and trying too hard to be liked, this band doesn't seem to care. what it is most like (to horsemouth) is the flowers of romance by PIL (and yet or relistening it sounds nothing like it). 

the gig is from 2020. the world was ending (but it didn't). instead it carried on rotting. there's no audience (who needs them anyway).