Another night of restlessness.
I wrote a poem while lying in bed. I think it’s too sentimental, and therefore too amateur. Is sentimentality amateur? If so then there’s no hope for me. I am far too sentimental.
Yet I have problems with sentimentality. At least overly sentimental writing.
— (read on after the poem for an unintentional book review) —Continue reading “15 April 2021 (feat. The Blanket poem)”
This morning I woke up and went into Trenton, to the CURE Arena, which for the past several months has been operating as a mass-vaccination site. I received my first of two Moderna COVID-19 vaccinations. I’m glad to have gotten the injection, despite any potential unknown health risks. (I figure Europe seems satisfied with them, even with the limited testing, and at this point the current risk of the virus outweighs the potential risks).Continue reading “Tues. 31 Mar. 2021; 12:31 – Sitting room, couch”
“I don’t think I’m as resilient as I used to be, or as I thought I was. This shit is difficult. (Me in all my eloquence)”Continue reading “Tue. 30 Mar. 2021; 18:16 – warm, sunny – wooden reading chair”