3.41am Reading Cortazar. Hopscotch. Between segment 6 and 7 there is a shift in perspective to the I. There may have been one hitherto, but I never noted it the way I noticed this one. My head is full of rolling Philip Glass notes. And Cortazar’s words (another book theory/ all books were one-book-less) strangely or otherwise fit his notes, strangely in that they rose me from sleep at this early hour. Outside the rain is falling in a persistent rhythm. P’haps it was the rain that roused me. I always wake if there’s a weather event. I consider this a great achievement.

I was just noticing the journey of the two book marks in this book and how the one at the back travels further than the one at the front which tiptoes.