6:18 p.m. - 2020-03-03
The roads are spiraled in
Your hands are outstretched
I can't check to see if I had one named thus already. It seems like I should because I am not that creative. I live in Pueblo now. I do the same thing that I used to. I am still married, and I have rented a house that needs desperately to be owned by someone who will care for it. I won't. Sorry.
I write now and again. Never much. And now the basic navigation has broken down somehow. I will research this, and see if I can restore some function to the whole thing. After all, it is the readers who will save me. If I could be enjoined to post at all. I miss people who liked this stuff.
I have a boss who is almost exactly like touching a live wire. The energy that flows through him makes it impossible to move. He has plans and ambitions about everything. He's so far immune to disappointment in me, which seems selective. But the erosion has begun. He wants me out of my shell. As ever, they believe I carry depths which conceal treasure. Maybe they are right. Just because everyone else is corroded by it doesn't mean they will be.