ideas as formless as the hum of the air conditioner – I have it on all the time. A permanent machine fixture of background lifeless
ideas as formless
but without the malice of politics – and more coherent – political rally on youtube – sounds evil
my dog is licking his paws, I tell him to stop. The light in this room needs adjustment- it’s too dry, too cold, the walls too white and empty.
Politics shapes the character of day-to-day, I think.
Last year was constant stress, panic, short outbursts of violence. This year is the slow-drip anxiety of global dementia.
Neither are ideal. Or any good at all.
My throat is dry, the trees outside wave in the wet-hot breeze of midsummer.
And I wonder, as I do every day around this time- what next?
ideas as formless
The air is as cold as the white of the walls.
Outside it is hot, even as the sun goes down.