i forgot what i was going to write. but if i forgot it how do i know i even had something to write? it may have been just a feeling. to write a feeling, that would be good. nevermind, it was just to start again. woke all stuffed. went to the last farmers market. got kale, arugula, seeded rye, small potatoes, chipotle chedder, spinach pie, apple pie. instead of giving thanks for this stolen land maybe we can honor the dead and displaced this quintessential colonial holiday. we are a tired empire. we're tired of being the superpower planetary thug. we're tired of what we did, tired of what we had, spent with what we've lost.