Summer blues? I don't know. I am not failing, but I don't feel as if I'm succeeding, either. I sense danger all about. Two routes available. I can just lock down and not leave the house, or I can make a trip and await disaster. That is the state of my Manichean mind just now. They tell me that there are nuances that lie between. I can't grasp the concept.
How does one go about diverting disaster?
The cat lies on my feet in the rising dawn having made me her only comfort. Perhaps I need a separation.
The photo brings on dreams of exotic islands and different times. It is not true. I am a seller of lies. Worse. I think I am a buyer, too.
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