there's something disconcertingly almost mystical about it. for me, everything leaks. i think at some point i had rain clothes that worked but i don't remember, maybe there was a paradisal period of my life i forget. maybe it leached out of my spirit leaving the bad weather karma. maybe i'm just more cranky, and porous, in my sixth decade. maybe it's the norm in the sixth extinction, with the superstorms the melting and the rising seas, when we need a second skin more than ever, and less porous than the birthday suit. oh well fug it gnome sane one more walk and i'm for bed.
i know i moan and groan a lot but i think a lot of people who don't may be more miserable than i sound. as greta says, i'm one of the lucky ones! i would moan and groan for all the suicides in the military who are not supposed to be crybabies and all of the kids who face a blank wall for their future.
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