And today, also, I wrote another 1,078 words on "Seven Dreams." I might be able to finish it tomorrow, but it's more likely I won't be done until Monday. But, regardless, Sirenia Digest ought to go out to subscribers before the end of 2019.
My century is gone, and I am left to remember and to mourn and to gather the pieces to myself and, apparently, drive away readers. This is just how it is. It's not an affectation. I don't think it makes me look cool. Mostly, it's a very unpleasant way to exist. Should I try to be different? I might as well try to change my DNA or the orbit of the moon.
~ and ~
The latest idiotic neologism that has me groaning every time I see it: "influencer." And this is not a "word" we need to describe something *new*. Human beings have been influencing other human beings for, well, as long as there have been human beings. And we did it just fine without "influencer."
"Mom, I wanna grow up to be an influencer. When people wanna be influenced, I want them to look to me."