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…
Without any effort at all, the thought of ‘why bother’ sails across the forefront of my mind. Matters not, the cause. It goes along its way just the same. Sometimes it passes. Gone just as quick as arrived and not much afterthought, if any at all given towards where or why it went.
There was a moon last night. I failed to see it. Sounds like a memoir title. Or a song.
By tomorrow, it shall be done. Today even. Maybe. All depends on how quickly I can bleed this week’s stone. And if anything else might end up happening today.