Since I decided on a whim to have this nasty creature be named "Porphyry," like the blood disease, I found a philosopher by the same name from 200 CE, chose to frame the baddie around his sensibilities, and fell down a rabbit hole. Now I came across the text and will read it for fun. Again.

And I walked away sighing at how some people are so adamant that they didn't cause a problem so they don't have to help anyone fix it, and won't do a damn thing for the greater good (the greater good) unless they're fawned upon and begged like they're royalty bestowing a grand favour.

8/9

Justified.

Might need a 3 month hiatus myself. What a nightmare we live in.

Pulling strings from twenty years past, through concept and design and lost half-writs, concepts of something else, philosophical discourse and realness overlaying potential, I recognize how much of my fullest writing existence bends toward this poem (and Joyce's "Ulysses"). It is a map. Shivers?

And one more

It was I, Love, that sent eyes into the world

Hell yeah I did!

I remember a long flat slab at my back, another one two inches from my face, and a ham and cheese sandwich covered in dust. Haha couldn’t do it today though.

Went caving once. Worth the experience.