suffice to say winter is not my favorite season. i don't mind the cold. it's the enduring twilight that creeps me over. the yellow brick road is just not as enticing when its dark. so i'm seeking refuge in my confined space, not quite the ivory tower of reckoning, to engage in contemplation rather than grapple with the infinite housework. i can't find the book i'm planning to read for ages and i know i'm the slow dimwit these present times.and i miss my folks, especially when i want advice about the brothers brigade. the buck stops with me now. i'm still hazy why the clouds are missing their silver linings. well-meaning spirits are narrating tales of european sojourns with their parents and that topic alone rips my marrows. i will always be hurting. but then my rents were larger than life. broad-spectrum conversations were the order of the day. we lived through the basics but it wasn't that bad. the books and the mags were there and that was more substantial than hollow laxuries. i'm still shattered with disease processes but they bite sharply in the ass.
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