Monday Evening Post: 10.24.22

I suppose the concern is about the potential desperation. And the fear that it is already here. Perhaps been around for a while, and only the ability to be oblivious be my shield. Yet, I don’t believe that to be the case.

Monday Evening Post: 8.8.22

I wonder. At what point does memory become history? And, at what point is desire too corrupted by selfishness so that nothing pure is left remaining?

Monday Evening Post: 7.25.22

Another solar spin and begins again the rebranded pondering. The reflection upon choices made as age wins another round in the meander forward. There is a sink full of dirty dishes, and here I am doing this.

Monday Evening Post: 9.27.21

     Was it courage? Some sort of boldness and bravery, that would lead me to this place? The cliff upon which I would dive out into the harrowing depths of my own consciousness. The precipice from which I would precipitate an amateur ideology that somehow always reassured some sense of self belief. Was it that…