isolation. now we are isolated and lonely and we have social media to fill our voids but it doesn't work so may as well do this blog in isolation i call it a diary anyway. i was lonely as a kid in the mustard house on a hill that was just a mound they bulldozed a popped a house on. mom says i was happy. i remember it different. mom is losing memory now. one day she may not remember me. things that we might have regarded as precious disappear in a landfill or a memory hole and we're still here until we vacate.