Do I contradict myself? No.

Last night we went to a summer solstice party in an other-worldly beautiful garden. It was so beautiful I had to keep looking down at my mosquito-bitten ankles, to give myself little breaks from the beauty. At one point I glimpsed Beatrice--dirty from playing in the dirt, watermelon running down her chin--and felt like I understood something, or remembered something, about pleasure, and childhood, and innocence, and nature. I would like to understand and remember it all the time, but there are all of these buttons and screens, buttons and screens that I've given myself to willingly, that I can't denigrate, that I love.

I think I used to be obsessed with paradox and contradiction, and now, not so much. There should be something, a word, that means 'the end of paradox' but not the resolution of it. What is that word? Transcendence? Death?

I mean, I hate to sound like a broken record, but maybe the word is love. The love that contains everything.