February 20, 2003

Silence of the Lambs

I've lost my writing rhythm, if not the will as well. Never a king, never aspiring to talk about kings, by proxy, I nonetheless feel the sword of Damocles just grazing my scalp. (You know the story. Damocles, the Greek courtier to Dionysius the Elder who, according to legend, was condemned to sit under a naked sword that was suspended by a hair in order to demonstrate to him that being a king was not the happy state Damocles had said it was). How can I sit here and ignore this mountain of woe while I gush about the joy and wonder or tiny ills in the life on the fringes of the kingdom, content to be in the world, but not of it, but guilty at the same time for seeming indifference? Fran of Northwest Notes understands.

Posted by fred1st at February 20, 2003 05:05 AM | TrackBack
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