Sunday Evening Post: 1.8.23

It is a reflective time of year, I suppose. Been dwelling upon the past, which, of course, can only go on so long before bleeding in with toxicity. I manage to manage it well enough.

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.

Wednesday Evening Post: 8.31.22

It is a bit like a curse. That insatiable itch. That oh, so human desire to know the future before the seeming snail’s pace in which we find ourselves encountering it.