The Journals of Denton Welch…

… was feeling a bit down about the substantial posts i made to this blog yesterday that caught nobody’s attention… then this bit of sparkling prose:

All my hard bones go wild with music notes, here in the rain. The fibers tremble with the whipping leaves. To be alone in the car with sandwiches and coffee and a Turkish cigarette! So snuggly alone that the world is the car, and the wood, the road, the view stung with rain, the rest of the universe.

… the book, as it winds down to an end, has taken a mournful but quite beautiful turn… every passage seems to be spiritually aglow, radiant, even as he describes the suffering he is wishing to overcome… it is hard to escape the impression of a slow descent towards the threshold of being-not-being…