virgo

Day 34: Virgo Rising

It was announced the other day that at least two more weeks of isolation have been added on to my socially- distanced state mandated sentence, leaving me little choice but to open another beer and sit back quietly tonight, taking stock and reflecting back upon all the experiences that have combined in the creation of me.  All the events and all the moments that amalgamated themselves together to form this brokenly strange caricature of a man, lost to his words while all around him the world continues to burn and flail in infectedly predictable repetition. I was taught very early in my formative years how to reflect meaningfully, poignant and hard.  And those lessons served me well, all across the many miles and years now left …

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punk

Day 32: Is this the tale of Johnny Rotten?

I am unsurprisingly sitting isolated tonight with only these few remaining beers and a couple of sad songs clinging to their disordered alignment within the confines of another hastily collated pandemic-inspired playlist echoing through an empty house for company.  Another night and another drink to help round out the listless loneliness and to maybe spark free the words that have been recently cluttering up my mind. Another night and another soulful song teasing out the emotions clogging up my soul.  Another night and another window left open to awkward self-imposed introspection implemented not for the sake of bettering my person, but because there is fuck all else left to do long after the sun sets over this weary little locked-down fly over City of Wayne. And …

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skull

Day 30: Goodbye

I just received word that I lost my first friend to this petulant little unseen virus. Sometimes, there are no easy words left to type. Sometimes, there is only isolated introspective drinking and the sorrowful notes of nostalgic music left to insufficiently numb the lingering hurt, though it never really seems to stick. Sometimes, you never get that promised tomorrow, despite what they once told us in our youth, those halcyon days when there was seemingly nothing that could touch us.  Or tear us down. There won’t be a funeral to honor him.  There won’t be any awkwardly uncomfortable final services to memorialize his name and to celebrate his experiences.  But that doesn’t mean that there won’t be any goodbyes, heartfelt and honest.  I owe him …

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eyes

Day 28: Eyes Without A Face

  With it being a holiday weekend, which was already an emotional struggle for most lonely single people, even in the best of the pre-pandemic glory days, and finding myself running a bit low on the necessities of life, I knew that I must face the inevitable and begin the preparations for a shopping run into the dangerous wild of an infected City of Wayne. That meant, of course, masking up.  And the diligent use of rapidly diminishing disinfectant supplies, while concurrently running the mental routine of constantly practicing the cadenced reminders of “don’t touch your face, don’t touch your face, don’t touch your face”. I arrived cautiously at the store, only to discover a veritable mob of Covidiots all herding around.  Not many people seem …

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typer

Day 27: I Didn’t Read the News Today, Oh Boy…

I stayed intentionally unplugged today from a flat-lining world, forsaking the usual crawl of hyperbolic news pages and gruesome graphics of the neatly collated body count for the peace and chilled April rhythm of another springtime day in the City of Wayne.  I intentionally isolated myself from the isolation, choosing to instead spend a day with intermittent sunshine on my face and typewriter-inspired silliness inside my head.  It was a long overdue mental oasis from the constant storms of doom and gloom threatening, the gloved and masked madness still running wildly unchecked through our socially-distanced streets. It felt good to be momentarily free from the worry of a world caught crashing down.  The air here was filled with the soothing hum of familiar, comforting music and …

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