I wish I liked magic tricks, or at least succumbed to the potential of what they could be. I wonder if Harry thinks I have anything to do with the sun rising, or setting early or late as the air gets warmer or cooler. Is it a magic trick with each toy both beloved and more for me than him? The easy spend to calm a conscious from a throwaway terse moment. I wonder if I can surprise myself one day?

Today: 20 years since Digital Ash In A Digital Urn/”I Believe In Symmetry“/“I would add, not with an admixture of that gleeful feeling which sometimes reaches the point of a need to deliberately chafe your own wound, as if you wish to admire your own pain, as if the consciousness of the extent of your misfortune indeed affords pleasure.” – Notes from a Dead House, 67/Oni 266CD

Waning Crescent

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