'Ff'lo (fflo) wrote,

prep for a small hiatus

I've been managing my Frontierville turf with an eye toward getting on the computer tomorrow not at all. How long it's been since I had a day I wasn't on the computer, I cannot say. That it is so rare is chagrinning. That I seem to have to prep myself for it feels like a bad indication of something, in the vast world of indications.

But there are lots of bad things in the world of indications. Just to go there seems to mean seeking out ill.

As hints of fall come to us hereabouts, though it's still August, which is dog days in my core consciousness, I feel weary, wistful, relieved, sad, frightened, achy, lonesome, peaceful, confused, frustrated, bleak and near devastated, and ever so slightly accepting. And it's maybe four days in a row, maybe five, I've had the heightened sense of smell I sometimes get. I pick up scents right along with a high percentage of mere ordinary inhalations, even through my slack-jawed maw. Tasting smell.

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