theidiot

Into my heart an air that kills From yon far country blows:

Feb 17, 2025 — 3:20PM

We are at Panera Bread this afternoon. We have come for a late lunch, early dinner, and to just be in a public space. It is a beautiful winter day.

The walls of silence Are already beginning to rise.

Being honest is always interesting. The bravest thing I ever said was ‘help’.

Existence is art.

Art is subjective. So, why do we often feel like we are failing at our own magnum opus?

The best way out, is through. — Frost

The funeral was as difficult an experience as I can imagine.

You see a storm coming, are in a storm, or have just seen one pass. Perhaps you ARE the storm!

This is my first

That's a lie. I've written a few obituaries. But this is the first one that that really cut.

Deep.

Gravity binds us all. But some more than others.