in the time span ...how it never really fizzles out ... those posts re-read, or not in more dormant corners.
My mind so befuddled for some of the ideas rocking about in thy head. The fluster in the muster of creativity we all have in forms. The good, the mistakes, the accidents and the stumble upon. The colour texture that is hiding in my abode too.
The conflicts making way for some show of life. However small in my observe. The impact to move along from this helping me. The resurrection of resources to find a way through this time.
The wayward closet we had in a system of overload. I had thought all items of a deceased husband clothing gone in the initial clear. I find in the recesses a few new and old clothing tucked away this week. The opening of doors behind which is clusters from both not touched and stuffed items from those that came in to clear a hoard of time away ...
About two years worth of bombardment of disbelief of how ill a person actually was. The infrastructure failed of the lack of robustness by a service that is supposed to keep us from harming ourselves, inadvertently too .... not just the obvious ....
