Day 36: Erin grá mo chrói

I happened to mention Ireland in my last post and that, coupled with the gentle prodding text of a dear friend, has me again thinking about that little island on the eastern edge of the Atlantic.  I have intentionally chosen to refrain from writing much about it in the past because I always had the nagging fear that my words, no matter how earnestly written or how cleverly edited, would never be able to reliably capture the experience of setting foot upon the stereotypically green soil of that ancient and often misunderstood land. But sitting here now, on the crumbling edge of what seemingly remains of our previous civilization, I realize that there really isn’t much left to lose.  So buckle up. The flight out of …

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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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