Your friends may say that I'm a stranger
I spent the majority of my afternoon on the phone with doctors and unemployment and I have just discovered that I will have to spend the majority of tomorrow's afternoon on the phone with health insurance. It's almost like normality, except for all the ways it's not. With the equinox upon us and the sky the crisp dry blue of the season, I have been feeling a sharp and useless pain for all the things I like to do in autumn, almost none of which can happen this year. I did get to see ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gaudior and Fox yesterday for the handoff of a honeycake at the small park down the street and later joined them and rushthatspeaks for family dinner Zoom. I managed to watch a couple of movies for the first time in weeks. I am cherishing the possible delusion that as the weather cools fewer people will want to spend much time outside and I will feel safer roving out with camera in hand, which had started to feel almost impossible by the end of the summer with all the heat-crowded streets. I seem to be sleeping better in the cold, although I have nightmares of houses decaying, of moving into apartments already falling apart: none of my dreams are subtle anymore. I feel like a very poor zamler, writing these shallow fragments across gaps of days. I really wish I had made that golem of Louis D. Brandeis when I thought of it in 2018.
gaudior and Fox yesterday for the handoff of a honeycake at the small park down the street and later joined them and rushthatspeaks for family dinner Zoom. I managed to watch a couple of movies for the first time in weeks. I am cherishing the possible delusion that as the weather cools fewer people will want to spend much time outside and I will feel safer roving out with camera in hand, which had started to feel almost impossible by the end of the summer with all the heat-crowded streets. I seem to be sleeping better in the cold, although I have nightmares of houses decaying, of moving into apartments already falling apart: none of my dreams are subtle anymore. I feel like a very poor zamler, writing these shallow fragments across gaps of days. I really wish I had made that golem of Louis D. Brandeis when I thought of it in 2018.
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*none of my dreams are subtle anymore.*
I get this. My recent dreams start off as science-fantasy epics and then something or someone is always there to boot me out of the adventure. Pfft.
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Amen.
What is it like to walk around, where you are now? Besides all the visiting moths? Facebook is such a thin slice of lives.
I get this. My recent dreams start off as science-fantasy epics and then something or someone is always there to boot me out of the adventure. Pfft.
*hugs*
All last night, I kept dreaming that I was waking up in the wrong place, and each time I would think I was home, and I wasn't. There was Hermetic magic, but it wasn't being used for the right things.
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Here's not so bad. We had a flurry of Indian summer. Swags of flowering ivy, wasp-haunted. The bindweed is ghosting the hedges down to Catney. I tend to avoid the towpath unless it's daytime during the week. The town centre is bearable. I'll go in once a week for groceries/look for a second-hand book. Birmingham, though: ugh. I walked around Digbeth recently, and it was a nightmare of hipster bars and squalling crowds. Hopefully the pub curfew might sand that down a bit. I need to start writing again here.
*There was Hermetic magic, but it wasn't being used for the right things.*
*hugs* I had some weird sword-and-sorcery/Torchwood mash-up last night. I can't remember what was waiting for me on the fourth floor below ground, but woke up screaming before the lift doors. I preferred the one about finding a shot pheasant in an empty city square. I can understand that one.
.
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Nice. We seem to have flipped straight from heat wave to near frost-snap and I'm not yet sure if we're going to bounce back. I do not know on any level what this autumn is going to look like. I am hoping at least for good trees.
I need to start writing again here.
I'm biased, but I would certainly enjoy it. I missed hearing from you during those months when your internet access went to effectively zero.
I can't remember what was waiting for me on the fourth floor below ground, but woke up screaming before the lift doors.
*hugs*
I preferred the one about finding a shot pheasant in an empty city square. I can understand that one.
That sounds like the seed of something.