December 31, 2017
23:38
Trying hard to have some kind of
feelings about the changing of the year. It's an ink mark on a piece of paper. An arbitrary measurement of an ephemeral force. Make your mind/body slowly feel its way into the flow, then you still can't see the lines of division between one second and the next.
I've already been in the flow for 76 years (as of Dec. 7- conception date), and am acutely aware that every moment could be my last. Every day we live is a smaller percentage of the total length of our life.
My egomaniacal desire to keep the flow going relates mostly to wanting to live long enough to see my (sooo dystopian) predictions of the future come to pass. This past year certainly looks to be accelerating our descent into chaos.
Also, I'm not finished with Andrew :) We're gonna see if he ever finds/takes a job that he doesn't consider "beneath" him. Or actually go back to school. I'm putting those things into my
make it so bucket.
And, I'd really like to see my son Rached again. I miss talking to him - almost every day, for years. But again, as in A., had to stop talking to me because he didn't like what I had to say. I spend a lot of time examining my memory banks to try and decipher what I must have said to make them feel I was abusive. It seems to me that I've had quite a few good friends who cared about me enough to have told me about myself if I was that outrageous.
23:59:59
00:00:15 1/1/18
