Lately, I have been approaching this space when I have the time but not the spark to make something beyond the declarative.
I think that today was my father's birthday but I cannot be sure anymore because he always made a point of celebrating it by not celebrating it and the one person I can ask right now is sleeping and if I bothered her when she was awake, it would stir things which do not necessarily need to be acknowledged.
On the ride home from work I remembered how to count backwards, which led me to realizing that my month of conception was July. I have been repeating myself often. Two days ago a wad of chicken wire became tangled in my rear spoke around the same spot of the same road where the same thing had happened the previous summer, after I had purchased a cold drink from the same location after refusing to purchase a cold drink from the same different location for the same reason. I think that this time I handled things a little bit better, but I cannot be too sure. There are many things I am thankful for now, physical pain being one. Dismissing the sense of urgency by way of agency. Offering the reins and deciding to not decide.
Learning how to say when before stopping becomes imperative.
The sound of your voice echoed in a series of gentle reverberations, leading me to a new sense of erewhon.
Something read, something said, something knew.
Ministering the two couples caught him by surprise as he found new reason to step outside of himself. The old man turned and with a shout observed that his admirer almost "married himself" up there.
The danger of appearing to see appearances as dangerous.
Your first reflex was always the correct response. As much a pulling as a push, it led me back to you in turns the subject objects where sense defers. The only way was to let it happen. To relax the desire and dance.