16,358. NOW IS THE SEASON OF NOTHING

NOW IS THE SEASON OF NOTHING

The air is carrying nothing today, and the

day's new nurse lady just told me it's humid

out. I don't feel a thing like that, even with 

these tiny windows up, the little bit they go.

There are no morning noises here at 6am;

just her.

-

I could sit here dazed and confused, but

I manage to stay sharp with writing and 

reading, in a very nice one-bed isolation 

of my own. It's a gracious world in that 

respect. It's a nice world, in my drawn

imaginings. I keep a mental sketchbook, 

sort of, of everything and I do have an 

actual one as well but haven't brought 

it out. Never dug that 'Art-as-Therapy' 

stuff, and won't start now.

-

From here, I'm betting that it's not a solid 

world, and I can walk through clouds and

other objects as I go. Probably wrong on

that, but I can learn 'bruising-as-therapy'

to work that out.