February 14, 2020

One of those nights last night. Missing Circe. Missing whole continents of my life– not even my life, continents that drifted by while I was stranded on a little island, watching them go.

Thinking of Valentine’s Day. I sent Jo-Jo flowers at his place of work. What? 28 years ago?

Turns out you can’t, after all, order NSDL through the publisher. Carlos cancels every order for some reason. That effort is completely lost. Something in me knew it would be. You keep plunging through, like a tattered bear through an endless field of thorns. In the midst of the thorns you cry out, but you’re in the midst, and nobody hears anymore.

This February is better than last February, I’ll give it that. Tangled with the Moffitt Medusa last year. . . skipping to the exit this year.

If only the wicked could be wicked in their own eyes.

Jakob Josef Orlinski on the Internet. Beauty.