To be fair to myself, I did produce some piles of writing during the wholly lost four days, though none of it was suitable for publication on account of it was immoral.

I really wish I could break the habit of needing to justify myself that way, but I seem solidly addicted to it.

The zen thing to do would be to notice the shame and ego of it, and notice, and notice, and accept it as experience until it drifts at its own pace into the ticking past.

I think I’ll try that, in the same way I’m trying wheat-free.

Maybe it will work for the rage-at-shitlibs thing. Maybe it will even work when a nominal progressive falls deep into the shitlib pit. Ah Kyle me boy, we hardly knew ye; noticing, noticing, accepting, waving goodbye …

Enjoy another look at Kyle’s fall PLUS a quite jaded look at the potential candidacy of our gal Marianne, but then join me in forgetting about the political for one day at least.

***

The best laid plans.