Friday, June 15, 2018

he doesn't know, and i hate to tell him, he's going to be anaesthetized and incised and then he's going to be in a sad cone and we will be blocked from swimming for two weeks, after waiting so long. 
there's so much evil going on, it makes my problems seem humble indeed, but while i think about all the suffering and killing going on, i am by nature in my own head in local time. in time like water i soon will be prevented from swimming in with mister.
it feels like we are out of time. 
and i have a new dog, and a sweet puppy she is, yet i'm anxious of anything new, even good things, i feel anxious and constrained. that may be the salient thing i got from the order of time, that time is an anxious blurring of events mostly beyond my control.
and they are now tearing up the other asphalt path on the lakefront, so we will have a brief summer of construction, noise and fumes, before the fall envelops us again for a seeming endless time we dread in past and anxiously anticipate, winter.
and r. is gone, though not gone gone, and that is another layer, of anxiety and distance, and yet all that is happening here and there and everywhere is happening just the same. it's only where we stand in relation that makes us feel detachment or attachment, ennui or empathy. 

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