Overcast and eerie-quiet this early Wednesday AM — middle of the week and there’s nowhere else to go but forward.
However, to advance further in this slipstream of bullshit, one must way-overcome a news cycle that’s becoming unglued from itself and spinning off into the ether.
Grown people are such assholes.
Surfing the online news sites for some post ideas this morning without catching a glimpse at anything odd, or strange or even ordinarily different — too much politics can soil the lettuce.
And I’m not looking for a good one — already got that — but I’d appreciate “…a longer one.”
(Illustration found here).
Glued to the laptop for a couple of hours, spinning through the plugged-in lines of life scattered across this really, really f*cked-up world, especially this early in the day, creates a kind of dream-like loneliness within an inept solace that can’t really be defined with a dose of some oddly-shaped opiate.
And in this weird election cycle where facts and data mean absolutley nothing, the media is spinning and spinning shit into the air without thought or pretense of a meaning.
Life and life on this mid-week.
A thought from one of my most-favorite poets, Emily Dickinson, who despite living so long ago in near seclusion, can touch the cord slithering from the InterWebs.
Emily’s I’m Nobody! Who Are You?:
I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you â€“ Nobody â€“ too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise â€“ you know!
How dreary â€“ to be â€“ Somebody!
How public â€“ like a Frog â€“
To tell one’s name â€“ the livelong June â€“
To an admiring Bog!
Keep moving, there’s nothing to see here.