my mind is grey and leaden but as I read in the kitchen this afternoon, sunlight spilled onto the pages of my book, I am finishing the speech of Alcibiades in Plato's Symposium.

I am loving how this ends: a confused drunken speech of jilted bewilderment, a strange cocktail of lust and shame, the desire for wisdom, to be better. I am thankful for writings like these, they are like candles, glowing. And as the days become shorter and darker, I am also thankful for afternoon sunlight.