I lost my wedding ring in the shower drain this morning and S. (on the phone with my wife) thought that I had died, then laughed when she found out. I’ve felt naked all day, and my fingers have been instinctively tracing back and forth over the empty flesh, looking for what isn’t there. It’s like tripping on pavement, or expecting a step-up that isn’t.

THESE DAYS

I am thinking about the dissemination of art.

I am thinking about Ezra Pound.

I am thinking about a permission-system of checks, which rewards moving through proper streams to get the correct certification.

I am thinking about how that is bullshit.

I am thinking about making it work. I am thinking about knowing what I want and how to get there. Making that place yourself. With time, and work, and excitement. With energy. Seeing the future and understanding the past. Glad I did not get another job when I was looking, because I know what I want now. And comfort kills. Comfort kills and brings fear.

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