burningheart

Day 64: It Was Another Dark and Stormy Cliché

My city of Wayne burns quiet tonight. The skyline stands distantly muted, not illuminated bright in the hopeful colors once shining down in a comfortingly familiar palette through the gloom.  Maybe it is the persistent haze of the unnecessary recent spring rains, soaking the city grey and threatening to anger the creek gods.  Perhaps it is the grind of this expensively lingering isolation finally catching up, the bills coming due because even though the world might be soon end, apparently the electric bill still has to be paid on time under threat of another tangible disconnection. Whatever the reason, it is so very here dark tonight. At least there are always the beers and other little helpers conveniently on hand, consumed shamefully in the shadows of …

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virus

Day 43: Monday, Monday….

And so it is, yet another isolated rainy night spent solitary in the currently slumbering City of Wayne, sitting in front of my typewriter and an annoyingly accusatory stack of blank pages waiting impatiently for the company of impressed ink.  Another night and another block of endlessly empty overnight hours spent forsaking the expected tenants of more healthy hygienic concerns for the numbing, temporary promises provided by selfishly imbibing in the nightly ritual of my highly proofed constant companions.  Intentionally not setting the mood with either flickering candlelight, or waftingly aromatic incense curls, but rather settling for the pungent, earthy stink of a constant stream of tobacco burnt in sacrificial regularity to the rhythm of this state-imposed insanity closing in hard. Another night boxed in with …

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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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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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Day 10

It is a struggle to find inspiration in a world without touch.  It is even more difficult to face the isolation of a life without love.  It makes the echoing emptiness just that much more claustrophobic, the passing hours that much more hollow and depressing.  The abandonment presses in hard and it festers here, polluting my thoughts and infecting my creativity, virulently.  It defines my newly mandated and officially locked-down day and I find myself dissolving slowly, and unapologetically, into that definition. It isn’t like I have never known love.  I have loved for almost the whole of my supposedly content and productive adult life.  And, in the lumbering wheeze of another overnight hour passing, it occurs to me that maybe that has been my underlying …

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