Good writing leads to thinking

I was asleep last night by 10:15. I woke up about 3--blink! Eyes on springs...sigh. So I read the book I started yesterday afternoon. Unfortunately, it wasn't particularly soporific, so I fnished it (I think I was around page 50 at 10; by 4:40 I was done with the remaining 190 pages). I put it down and found myself still pretty much wide awake. Maybe it's passages like this, which sum up some of my recurring feelings:

Over the last ten years I'd dropped out of the circle of people who organised the meetings, raised the money, sat on the committees and made speeches. It wasn't that I'd stopped believing in the same things. It was something to do with getting older and watching the same events recurring, calling up the same well-rehearsed indignation over and over again, hanging out with the same people, saying the same things in the same words. It had been a busy little rut, but the more I did the deeper it had seemed to get. [p. 62, Blood Rights, by Mike Phillips--my italics]

Glad to know I'm not alone, although he's talking about politics, not church.

Maybe, especially in today's climate, there's no difference.

What a cynic, Cat.


I did get back to sleep by a little after 5. My alarm went off at 6.