Six hours of sleep is not unprecedented, but nailing it from 7 pm to one in the morning pretty much is, in the context of these summer months in the year of our broken lord. I’ve been trying to get back there for weeks. Now for once and finally I have, and I am filled with the good intention of turning that small success back into a habit next to the others.

I do not question and fully acknowledge your entitlement to Congratulate Me.

***

For that and for this.

No one ever voted for her and they’re not going to start now, though you of course may well prove an exception to the rule, you forward-thinking pro-democracy anti-fascist rebel you.

I’ve been monitoring the endless texts but so virtuously saying nothing, and using my otherwise useless shadowbanned twitter account to dump off excesses of steam when I finally and absolutely cannot stand it for even one more second.

My unbroken diligence here at the spill makes me feel unequivocally proud.

As for what I’ve filmed, I’ve selectively posted what also makes me proud, and I’ve shitbinned the rest ruthlessly.

I do not question and fully acknowledge your entitlement to go right ahead passing on the roasted magic beans of light and reading nothing, watching nothing … saying nothing …

Feeling.

In response I exhort myself to persevere in fierce spite of the resulting pindrop void, to even try to teach myself to craft a facsimile of a comfortable home for myself within its confines of cathedral silence.

That ambition defines me at four in the morning of the 23rd day of July.