Status Updates From As I Lay Dying

Que duro, que bello

When I was a boy I first learned how much better water tastes when it has set a while in a cedar bucket. Warmish-cool, with a faint taste like the hot July wind in cedar trees smells. It has to set at least six hours, and be drunk from a gourd. Water should never be drunk from metal.

Obsessed with “smoothing at the wrinkles which he made and which continue to emerge beneath his hand with perverse ubiquity.”

Adding “perverse ubiquity” to a mental vocab notebook