Trying to get into my old MacBook again. Got the scans of old Valentine's Day cards. These are from my moms classmates in middle school. Estimated date would be early 1970's.

Neglected to mention the program a friend wrote for me to log my daily readings and listenings. It will live at the top of this page.

I hope to dedicate this time away to editing.

Like sparrows in the dust. Wings spread not to vacate the placid ground below, but to lie in and agitate. Dislocate the foundation, floating in the air, only to settle in one's own wings, to carry from that moment forward. Surface dust dislodged with a good preen, but skin remains mottled and smothered. Absorbing, obstructing. Oil, parasites. Dust protects.

9:17pm

The mind shifting, to feel at one moment, and in the next another. And yet still unknown, to others.

I lie beneath the veil of poverty and misfortune.

I must not fall victim to the routine, to the need, to log every moment.

Been some time again. Book Thing today. Crossed paths with an old, what's a good word, fling? I hate that word, but it will do.

Book Thing finds