Ah-lah. I sat down and wrote an entire typical Ms. Moon word-journey about life and death and connectedness but it wasn't going anywhere and it didn't say a thing that all of us don't know and so what the hell? Delete, delete. Delete!
It is late in the afternoon, or early in the evening, depending on how you look at things. I have been unsettled today. I have thought a lot about what I wrote this morning about how the world got along just fine before we got here and will continue to do so after we are gone.
That gave me comfort as I suffered my usual anxiety about nothing, nothing at all.
And when I came home from town, my new chickens ran over to greet me. Not because they like me but because they have already started to associate me with food and isn't that the way? But still, it pleased me and I unloaded the groceries and the library books and took the trash to the trash place and the recycle too and I am going to make chicken and pineapple tonight and green beans from the garden and brown Basmati and wild rice and really, that's enough. Perhaps at least fifty percent of why Mr. Moon loves me is that he associates me with food. I would not doubt it. But that's okay.
You already know all that other shit I was writing about but deleted. The Be Here Now shit. The You Never Know shit. The All Is One shit.
I got nothing to add to any of that shit.
Aren't you glad I'm going to take a little trip? I'll have something new to write about.
It'll be a relief for me, too.
New shit. Something to look forward to.
I'm going to dress this pig up in velvet.
Pretend this is foreplay.
I know you can.