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Cooler weather. Currently it's only 77˚F and partly cloudy. We begin to approach green autumn.

Yesterday I wrote 1,017 words on Agents of Dreamland.

And I'm feeling bad about how often these entries are so very, very short, how my LJ entries of late don't bear much resemblance to the more meaty entries of years past. But the truth is that readership here bottomed out a long time ago, and it's hard to motivate myself to write on LJ at length. I'll likely keep the journal going, out of habit, and because I think there are interesting days ahead. Maybe another year, maybe a little more.

I'm not quite awake. Seven hours and all the drugs, they leave me groggy and turned about.

Aunt Beast


Aug. 7th, 2015 09:01 pm (UTC)
Simply Minds.
I have a sneaking feeling that much of the current, or last generation are Oscar Wild's Happy Princes. They are all waiting for the bubble to burst, and spend their time standing on a pedestal weeping, wait to have bird pluck out there eyes so they don't have to see the ignorance in which they live there lives. You should do a Video blog, the Happy Princes wouldn't have to read.