it was so warm i wished for shorts and mister was panting and shedding wafts of fur in time for migrating birds to weave into nests i like that even more than a sweater for me the moths would only eat. a cold front is coming already though. what a luxury to be in my love's place that's more my home than my old one and to be able to send myself a picture like this and come home shower and write a post like this. i am a fortunate shadow boy indeed. i can feel the atmospheric pressure change, in my brain and my jaw and teeth, and i'm aware of subtle evil (as well as light and love) conditions in flux, sensitized by the predations of the wider nonsense of  the world and the narrow sense of the community. abstractions don't feel that way. one has to try and articulate. trying is articulate. you can write an essay about nothing in particular but living in your moment here just now begin.