This shortest day has been flooded with sunlight. I slept almost none of the night. The hinges of the year have felt rusted shut for a long time, but I can't pretend it hasn't still been swinging to the rhythm of axial tilt whatever once and future fantasies people like to frame themselves inside. Sidereal time does not care whether I still have to ask the contractors to mask themselves before they cross our threshold—strange guisers—to repair some small parts of our house. It was oddly, seasonally apropos. Happy solstice! If the sun can come back, why not the rest of us, at least once in a while?
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- 1: And in the end they might even thank me with a garden in my name
- 2: And me? Well, I'm just the narrator
- 3: And how it gets you home safe and then messes the house up
- 4: Now where did you get that from, John le Carré?
- 5: This is what I get for being civilized
- 6: I'd marry her this minute if she only would agree
- 7: Open up your mouth, but the melody is broken
- 8: Is your heart hiding from your fire?
- 9: Everybody knows the world's gone wrong
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