Sept 5, 2019


Not a poem but some unfinished other thing:

Her so-so-many Wimsels 

would vie for her attention 

each in ways all their own

and by every day and night.

it was exhausting, even for god –

to be this much in love with

a full garden of souls

such as these

I am writing (slowwwwly, it feels) an origin story as part of the backstory for another story. I’ve taken a few swings at it, this is a snippet from that scrambled project. The teller of the story is monotheistic, the one god is identified as female; how do their attitudes toward each other differ, originating as they do from a different place than us?

On the next page, I prepare (in a fashion) for an upcoming interview with a company that I did not end up working at but nonetheless very much enjoyed meeting. Space robots! Canadian space robots! What else can I say?

I am not sure what to make of the number 414, and clearly, I wasn’t sure what to make of it then either.

Aligning to Good: reaffirming in writing that I am always hoping to know what Good is and that I’m facing that general way more often than not.

– – – // – – –

Why share rough notes about nothing?

This is a fair question. I started typing an answer but kept running into first-person personal pronouns. It is a thing the writer of this thing would like to do less of in his future.

– – – // – – –

This is open source, for all it’s worth


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