For Rain

Churning magazine titles over; must have gone through 100+ by now. Lesson: I'm useless at titles unless I'm dreaming. Other lesson: the study of cloud physics is called nephology.

Some dissertation work.

Really ought to update my website, because that project has changed astonishing amounts in the last 7 months or whatever it's been. Unlikely any time soon due to various things but most of those vanish into mood.

Orchids keep starting to grow and then blasting, which is heartbreak material. Spring pretends to show up but doesn't. (And won't. We will have winter, only green and warmer, and then winter, only hot, and then winter, only colorful, and then winter. Lake effect.)

I got into this on the bet that it would be worth the pain, and so far that outcome is a very hard read. Density is fine with me, but obscurity isn't, and this is obscurity. Obscurity & me grappling with it alone, adding another form of constriction. Did you know alone can be an apparatus? It can. It ratchets down. Brass. The whole trend.

So everything is straining to see in the dark, which is exhausting in the medium term and deadly over longer periods. Or I guess there's the option to close one's eyes and lie down, but I tried that. Then there is the miracle of light, but I'm not in charge of miracles as everyone can see.

My instinct is for obscurity of a different kind, and there all this goes silent as though it were buried in deep black static. Because it is. Contained light & black static, indeterminate, sealed as we are in the one shape of an egg.

My angels. . . I'm trying, but I don't feel talkative.