Eiji Tunsinagi

It seems like it's my business, this whole trouble of beauty and things that are beautiful. I mean, I can't go outside without being blinded by sunlight through leaves, glinting this and that, distant scents (fresh cut grass, lingering cigarette smoke from that odd neighbor, the smell I think I can write that an odorless wind might have, etc) -- and for what?

What am I supposed to do with this, this, with my day? What... this? Does a blog qualify beauty? If I choose not to blog... is there still beauty? (Side note, is it a blogging faux pas to mention your blog in a post on your blog? This is one of those situations that definitely implies a faux pas...)

I'd be the first person in the room to say "Yes, yes I do, to some extent (the entire extent of 'some') float through life" -- and so I feel this nonsense is painfully more important than I could ever dream. Without it, well... I'd just be writing some really mish-mash blog that's about nothing in particular though it advertises itself as tackling the subject of 'Excessive Beauty'.

Ugh. Where are my keys? I need to take a drive.