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September 19th, 2018


day's a-wanin'

Dark comes earlier already.  Not early.  Like, 8.  But that's earlier.

I have giant piles of brush to cut up and get rid of.  Did a little of that today, after sleeping in, not getting to sleep until 4:30 or 5.  Then came to the office cuz there was an interviewee.

Getting a dog wouldn't give my life meaning.  Getting a dog would give my life a dog.  And a giant responsibility that functions like a purpose.  And a dog.

The news keeps reminding me of my chorus, as well as of one old assault in particular, and the big fat swath of assault, harrassment and abuse of power that run through our cultures, our lives.  Trump saying how much he "feels for" the accused, and that focus, and the efforts to get it all swept under the rug and have business get back to usual please and soon--- that's what it felt like at rehearsal, with a pause for a nod to the problem and then on with the regular everything, like it didn't mean a thing.

It's still a little hard to believe I've lost that world.  Hard to absorb that it has unwelcomed me this way.  But it's maybe not so hard to believe that I'm not going to pay that price--- the high cost of going along to get along.  That price is too high.  I understand why not pretending is so important to me.  Gotta remember that, go over it in my head sometimes.  Cuz it sure doesn't feel good, so it's not easy to hang on to how that choice, which felt worse, wouldn't be better.

ETA:  Meanwhile there is a new story about a power couple who drugged and raped people.
Mo and discy disc


Postcard of the Day

(a feature involving a postcard on a day)

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For another postcard thing, see
my old postcard poems tumblr or
its handy archive.

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"What was once thought cannot be unthought."

-- Möbius, The Physicists


"The moment of change is the only poem."

-- Adrienne R.


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