Ours is an essentially tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragicly.The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habits, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We'vbe got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.
D.H.L.
I feel myself, my powers of charm and wit have returned. I was at an open mic earlier this week, hosted by a good friend. On this night, it seemed less a bar and more a house party, free mingling of conversations and ideas as if the barriers that seperate one group from another had been temporarily dissolved. Wandering from one end of the bar to the other, charming as I went. It occured to me that I could most likely, with my wit, have taken any of the women in the room to my bed, but I chose to sleep alone. Could it be that I am actually making wise descisions? This marks the dawn of a new era! 
(that isn't strictly true, and even if it were i'm in no position to judge it. but i always wanted to be a voiceover and that made it sound kind of exciting eh?
anywho, if you are, please read Gertrude Steins 'Autobiography of Alice. B. Toklas' because it's a lovely little book and that woman fascinates me to no end. (again. i'm being really dramatic. there probably is an end to that somewhere.)
And I would go on to recommend F. Scott Fitzgerald's Tender is the Night if you have time, and some poetry; T.S. Eliot and Auden but not Ezra Pound because I haven't got to grips with him yet although I'm trying......
oh. and as for your comment, i'm fearful my circular treading is already so far ingrained
that my feet would find any new land foreign and cease to function. or that could be the lamest excuse i've ever made myself to write a sentence that is yet again dramatic, and as always, quite devoid of meaning