Southern Gothic

I am moved in and still rendering sanity out of the chaos that is the house I moved into. The land lord is my friends older brother and he didn't do much to get it ready for me. I like it. Quaint. As soon as I get my camera back I will post some pictures.
I have had little impulse to do any kind of philosophy since I have been back. I am pretty content and that may have something to do with it. The last writing I did was in La Guardia at 5am on Saturday. I cranked it out. Several pages of something I am working on. It just spewed out. But being back and having sun and pepper plants to tend to has just dissolved any of the things I was thinking about. I am going to try and sit down tomorrow and do some work. I will see how that goes. I have some "real" work that needs to get done. But that can wait till tomorrow as far as I am concerned.
The whole thing just feels weird. There is a certain bucolic rawness about being back. I like it. The smells of spring have not been sublated by the smells of civilization. There is a grass somewhere that gives off the sweetest honey scent. The honey suckle mingles with this in the cool of the evening. It is a potent liquor for my senses. Everything seems to have a warm sepia tone to it. The sun casts its light on everything. There are no places of eternal shade. I can't explain it but it is as if something has gotten under my skin. Something that used to be so familiar that now feels some what alien. I am relearning how to live here.
I voted yesterday. It felt good. It felt great. God, I love this country.