Sunday Evening Post: 8.2.20

I feel some returning elasticity to my mind, these days. A continuing conflict, for sure, but a battle that must be thought.

less, speech

silent, that bastard and right when least most expected. so sold, so, infected the convections of overlooked yesterdays, the fix, nice, and quick for to quake awake the off cast fever-   to take, and bleed believer-   to weave there, or, here, or anywhere-   to feel faith, (understated at least)-   to feel…

Tuesday Evening Post: 6.9.20

     The wonder whether I was ever as able as I once thought, or if my ego disguised my own powerlessness from me- that conundrum weighs heavy on my mind.      There was a dream. Not last night, but the one prior. A dream that pulled at emotions I thought dissolved. They were not, it…