It is 2:06 PM Sunday afternoon in the ongoing death flow. It is windy cold cloudy day. I am beginning to see some sunshine this afternoon.
I got up this morning around 7:15 AM. When I got up Carol was baking blueberry muffins. I got myself a can of cold water and sat in our dining room with the goal of waking up to existence. Ollie greeted me this morning, he wanted me to feed him. But Carol told me when she got up this morning she fed little Ollie. It seems all dogs only want to eat or go for walks.
Carol took Ollie for a walk this morning. While she was gone I ate breakfast. Carol left for church around 9:55 AM. While she was gone I filmed a video for my Youtube site.
I really only have read today some more of a Sermon by Ralph Erskine from The Works of Ralph Erskine Volume 2. When Carol got home from church we ate lunch and I am now writing in my online diaries.
I did write a couple of pages in my paper diary this morning. Carol went to take a nap after lunch. I suppose I will close to doze. It is a new week. It looks like a week of nothing going on except the OVID-19 death plague. I will close to wait it out.
I did read last night late into the night 'Antkind' A Novel by Charlie Kaufman. Do not know what I will read today/this afternoon/this evening/tonight.
Look to the sky, ichor of heavens
Underneath its burning shroud we are hidden away
Festering wounds, crusted and sore, skywards hives
All these centuries have teached us nothing
Endless domination, this ancient war
Another paradise, crushed in our grasp
Tears of misery, shed in regret
Eternal punishment, desolation
Harvested screams, relentless extinction, this world is dying
Hellspawned putrification, pеrdition alight
Look to the sky, stained pariah, this is as black as it gets
Come dawn, bring us the comfort of sleep, this jaded virtue Strangled in disgrace, purged from the soil, detached from all lively
We are the vermin that pester the lands
We are the bringers of chaos
Risen to shine, constructed to consume, we’re dull and lifeless
Bringers of death proclaiming the end
Gasping for air but all is polluted, collapse is certain
Apostles of hope, alone and helpless
We are forsaken and this is your abyss