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Dragonfly of Trill
Apr. 2nd, 2020 10:19 pmIt's never safe to go through old notebooks, even when just skimming them in search of previous iterations of a story idea. It's especially a bad idea in the middle of a plague quarantine and when you haven't slept well for two nights. You could start thinking too much about the past and have a little meltdown of grief and self-accusation. I'm just sayin' it's a possibility, so watch out. This has been a public service announcement.
I did start thinking again about this story idea and working on it again. I already think it's unpublishable for various reasons, but maybe I'll just write it anyway. I think "Oh, why didn't I write this one?" and then after awhile I think "Oh yeah, that's why." But really, now that I'm obsolete, I may as well please myself. I need that ONLY GOD CAN JUDGE ME tattoo that I gave to the angel in my unpublished novel.
It was a beautiful sunny day, once I stopped trying to light it on fire, and we went out for a walk. There were bees in the crocus flowers in my front flower bed, and an orange butterfly on the woods path. We saw a few other people out, and gave them a smile and a wave and a wide berth. We sat out on the screen porch for the first time this year, and it was surprisingly pleasant, although my fingers were cold after an hour. A friend's nephew has had a recurrence of cancer, and the friend from PA who thought she was getting better went to a clinic and had chest x-rays. They decided to test her and her daughter for covid-19. The tests haven't come back yet, but the doctors are telling them they probably both have it. They're at home for now, and they're not doing too badly, but they both have complicating conditions, so there is a concern. So now I'm trying to just enjoy still being alive--and not judge myself for having judged myself, in an infinite recursion of regrets.
I did start thinking again about this story idea and working on it again. I already think it's unpublishable for various reasons, but maybe I'll just write it anyway. I think "Oh, why didn't I write this one?" and then after awhile I think "Oh yeah, that's why." But really, now that I'm obsolete, I may as well please myself. I need that ONLY GOD CAN JUDGE ME tattoo that I gave to the angel in my unpublished novel.
It was a beautiful sunny day, once I stopped trying to light it on fire, and we went out for a walk. There were bees in the crocus flowers in my front flower bed, and an orange butterfly on the woods path. We saw a few other people out, and gave them a smile and a wave and a wide berth. We sat out on the screen porch for the first time this year, and it was surprisingly pleasant, although my fingers were cold after an hour. A friend's nephew has had a recurrence of cancer, and the friend from PA who thought she was getting better went to a clinic and had chest x-rays. They decided to test her and her daughter for covid-19. The tests haven't come back yet, but the doctors are telling them they probably both have it. They're at home for now, and they're not doing too badly, but they both have complicating conditions, so there is a concern. So now I'm trying to just enjoy still being alive--and not judge myself for having judged myself, in an infinite recursion of regrets.
