“The need to speak, even if one has nothing to say, becomes more pressing when one has nothing to say, just as the will to live becomes more urgent when life has lost its meaning.”
--from The Ecstasy of Communication

all these small agencies of despair eradicate themselves in this morning I see blue sky and brown tree armed vaguely in the breeze.  To my right is my wolf, sleeping, catching up from the rabbit chase in dreams he held last night, his eyes lift every now and again, in promise of an excitement still to come.  My last two days have taken me across counties but before leaving London, I watched a talk about prospects of progress perceived in tracking electronic devices amongst disabled youths.  A young Romanian boy entered my peripheries.  He arrived as patient to a social prescriber, endebted to continuing the stopper lowered in gatherings of the barely disabled youth.  Instead of living the the present we live in the past or project on a myriad of

“I do better coding when I’m high

but now I feel I can’t really do it anymore”

in oxymoronic cloves I glide in health aspects alongside social aspects alongside life aspects, these parts though are masked with futility and jaded considerations of maciavelion substance abuse as we wear dark corners down it could be a professional counterfeit that would swear by what has happened to share endeavour and to do with the downward spiral we wear into each case of having time being there are four little places to be in contact.