I can't remember exactly where it began but there appeared on my followers list an excellent uplifter entitled "Encourage One another". Then years happened and it resolved into anonymity:
It got very anonymous. Things do. On the 17th, I went in for surgery. Sparing, beyond opioid pain medications, further gruesome details, here is what crossed my mind:
Mind: each dream, in agony and dissequence, has the moment and forever in it. We wake, and when we wake it is between never and always, where mind combines our days.
I think of Elizabeth Cady Stanton: "Self-development is a higher duty than self-sacrifice." Is it? I wonder in delirium --are they disconnected or just toppled on each other?
In the 1960s I made a project of touring the contiguous 48 states of my country. I had visions of children chained to their anvils pounding recycled plastic into cellophane. But then the opiates kick in.
I think of Julia Roberts, and that other actor who is also Julia Roberts --uh-----Sandra Bullock. Yes, convalescence is strange. I remember Nikita Khrushchev, "Whether you like it or not, history is on our side. We will bury you!!!" Remember the shoe? I remember the shoe. Nice shoe.
I wake a little. Stopped taking hydrocodone last night. Don't know why Dr. thought clogging up my digestive tract would be helpful. If I'd told him I was having contractions he doubtless would have prescribed a bottle of apostrophes.
My pain is definable only by those who suffer it, not by those who don't, so there's no point defining it. My solution? Never suffer.