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The More Things Stay The Same, The More They Change

I suppose it should matter that it is Saturday. I know it does to my friends in the ether who are gainfully employed and can rest from their burdens for a few days before going to serve the greater good once more in their chosen professions. For those of you, loving souls who work today and tomorrow as well know I have not forgotten you and I value your sacrifice and dedication just as much as those who work the weekdays alone.

Then there’s me, the unemployed guy with kids who haven’t been to physical school buildings since march and has had to look at his phone every day he has wanted to know the day of the week since very early May. It doesn’t matter what day it is in the long and the short of it, not to me. I mean, we don’t watch network TV, we don’t go anywhere, we don’t do anything. So, Day A is just as monotonous as Day R and even then I can’t tell the difference.

It is more annoying than distressing I suppose. I am sure there are some long-term psychological issues with quarantine I am not familiar with, but I am pretty sure that defeating COVID is far more important than anything that I might want to go out and do and I refuse to bring an illness that might not attack me as virulently back to people who it would decimate in every way.

My brain is very sludge-like today, so I am now going to string random things together until I don’t want to write anymore, sounds like a plan, no?

Yeah, I miss some of you WAY more than others. This is not something you are supposed, to be honest about when people ask about it. I am not going to lie and say you are in the top twenty of my People if you are simply not. If you can not accept that, that is your issue to work on internally, not my issue to change to suit the needs you have.

Who wouldn’t want to see their best and closest friends first? Isn’t that why you give them, justifiably it is mostly a negative thing, a ranking of “best” or “closest” in the first place? If I just wanted to see people I can just sit my fat ass on my stairs and wave at the hundreds of people who come down here every day to buy there stupidly illegal herbal supplements.

I want to hug my best friend and have her do that thing where she makes me believe the world isn’t completely waste and needs to be purged in a fire. I want to hug my Air Traffic Coordinator and spin them in a circle and make airplane noises because I am infantile and the thought of doing that gives me a laugh every time. I want to see the kids of my friends. I want to see the Warrior Princess and stun her with my fly-catching abilities, I want to give bro-hugs, to be a Bruncle, to see if you can play the guitar, to see how gigantic you have got since the last time I got to see you.

Writing sappy emails is fine and dandy, hell I do that out of quarantine, but being able to say those things to your face and make sure by your reaction I am not going to maudlin, or idiotic for that matter, is so much better than that. To see your eyes is everything, you know that, right?

I have a migraine. Yeah, yeah I know I always do. It is a bad one and I have been trying, successfully thus far if you are reading this on Saturday at all, to not go back to bed and sleep until the pain is gone and I can’t feel any feelings anymore, because I don’t want to do that thing right now, it is hard and sometimes you are allowed to do the whole “put down your labors, O ye weary traveler, and rest” thing, right? Maybe I am misremembering my Torah though, it has been a few decades since Hebrew.

I have been reading Edward Lee for the last few days. Now, if you don’t like gore-for-the-sake-of-it, nearly illegally pornographic, horror writers, maybe don’t click on that link. However, if you want to read wonderful books like Lucifer’s Lottery and Carnal Surgery, (for those that may ask, no, there are no affiliate links attached, I am not that kind of an asshole.) then I highly encourage you to read them. Despite the purposeful provocateur approach taken in the writing, the style is beautiful and if you happen to be a fan of philosophy, especially Nietzsche and Kierkegaard, he is your go-to horror writer.

A sweet kitten has just clued me into a thing dysphoric mania, or a mixed state. Think of it as being manic and depressed at once, which is pretty much hitting the nail on the head for where I am right now. I am exhausted and can’t sleep, I don’t want to do anything but sat and spent three hours organizing my Dropbox into a few dozen sub-folders this morning. I will be talking with people to see if I can get any assistance with this, but in the day and age of COVID, well, we will see what can be done.

Yeah, I think I am done now. I have all the thoughts to write all the things, but the energy to move the fingers is gone, so I guess that is what people would call a cue to disperse activities.

Be careful. Love One Another. Wear Your Masks. Stay The Fuck Home if you don’t have to go out. Flatten The Curve. Wash Your Hands. Socially Distance. Yes, I am very sick and very tired of saying this to the fucking imbeciles who need to hear me say it over and over again.

I am tired.

Goddess Love With All Of You, and, as always, until next time, I Bid You, Peace.

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