Having not posted anything here for many days, I feel that I cannot in good conscience let a Leap Day pass without being dated by a brief post.
I have felt for several days that radiation from the recent solar storms has been affecting my body chemistry and my brain waves, bringing me strong dreams by night and a sometimes almost unbearable sense of dread in my waking hours. It is not as though real-time circumstances on the ground haven't been sodomizing me for real; but it's been more than that. And I blame the sun and his tantrums for my distress. It helps me to have that target.
Please admire the portrait of this old man, donated to the cause by my Irish FaceBook friend, Fiona Clements, a.k.a. F3. If you want to know why that alias is, you'll have to ask the lady.
Check out this tiny piece by Leonard Cohen from his Book of Longing:
WORK IN PROGRESS
he's going to get sick
and die alone
he is the main character
in my little story called
The House of Prayer
That says it all. Just wait. You'll get old, if you're lucky. Or whatever.
So, it's Leap Day. But I'm afraid of heights, so I'm not jumping into anything. Just waiting.
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