Monday Evening Thoughts: 6.30.25

I sit before you now, a tangled mess of head and heart. Knots and weaves of both my own design and of forces so far beyond my control, one might think them other worldly. I was told, from both outside and inside my own skull, that I must attempt to unravel some of that here….

Monday Evening Thoughts: 6.23.25

The doomsday sayers, of all varieties, have been having their mutters turn to shouts, as of late. As has happened so many times before in this story of the human species. Though, I suppose it’s been a little more actual in planetary scale this past century. Still stinks of ancient holy war, though. As it…