The Rain Is Gone ~ Sunday, June 21, 2026
My deceased cat keeps leaving the lights on yet, I go to turn them off, where is she dead, inside a box, ashes, bones and dust even if I could find her, she is gone cease to exist and they cremate your corpse even if I could outrun death, I see another adversary not to trust seems like the world is full of polar bears even if I could move the world, what warps decision-making more than smoking dope cats are my only hope, though dogs are sweet as a child, I was denied any hope to live with a cat or two, I would meet kindness face-to-face, vis-a-vis, my fears endlessly melt away, but I am old endlessly older than before and sad perhaps because the future is my past such that I must live with others as cold literally, as my own family even if I win the lottery, bad as losing my right arm, wrapped in a cast veritably, I would be all alone in some place, this works out amicably not because I would be rich but to write given what I write about is a win the world does not desire but to fight ...