Reset Forty-Five, Day Three

Another skipped nap Friday night, which probably shouldn't have been. A different set of strange aches at different times of day and night, absences of thought, snacks instead of meals, forgettings and unwanted remembrances. Power tools (mowers blowers) filling afternoon with racket and stench, Friday evening traffic on the freeway going who knows where, nowhere I would know. The mini-metropolis and the Idernet the background to decline, a sense of endings in the offing. Exeunt. Only the music prevents me from vanishing into the walls I stare at.

Marcin Patrzalek was 22 on October 6. I forgot to post this that day:

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