Monday Evening Thoughts: 12.8.25

              There is an inherent difficulty with the regularity of this ramble. Tragically confined to a day and time, hoping the inspiration might be found without force having to be applied. It slows and stalls the words, at the moment, as I scrambled about scattered and non-linear notes made throughout the chaos of the day….

Monday Evening Thoughts: 9.15.25

Returned from a weekend away from my place of residence to find the cornfields no longer, replaced by tractor treaded mud and browning, drying, fading stumps of former stalks. The cycle continues. Dead until born again.

Monday Evening Thoughts: 9.8.25

Someone called me a walking autumn, earlier today. I wonder if she can see all my impending decay. Aesthetic, though it might be. And the cooler air is better for breathing, even when stalled in bouts of mild hyperventilating, from time to time.