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It was there I know, but know not what it be, no, it is still here I know, but know not what to see.  Maybe never ending is that without the begin, so I’ll not remember when. Not even the senses are recalling. Awake forty, born forty, family as they were this day, change devoid.

Past is panic at expectation, improvisational hides, silence and diversional tools the best of it, but thinkin they catch on and up. Work is a larger of labor, as I think it was once more fluid, judging by the papers from then, and weighing the papers for today a heavy task indeed given comparable time, and verily learning the hows again and the morrow again. I fear the mask will soon fall, the buffers adorned by yester’s overdoing fail the just balance in the current underdoings, me, and mine, remanded to the will of the state for our meager sustenance, and I will know not the better of it.

It is a hellish burden the holding this feebling waning mynd, more so, the dreams of its final rest of provisioning, taking from those who count it. God may guide me thru this thing’s delay, I pray it so, that mine may have the much lesser need before I be shut.

~tdv… i think

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