Days, past. Little change worth noting, much change. None worth noting. If any, quietly, passively unawares, change.
Spent one to two am listening to Winterreise, gorgeous hour or so, gripping the arm rests, of my chair. The regulars with lighting and rubbish.
Still away from people. Though, Ive been seeing the doctor often, nice man. Ulcer, possibly, X rays, breath tests.
Walking much, stravaiging, occasionally I count my steps, about a meter apart, or so. Nearly hit a million a few days ago, maybe I did, plenty of room for mistakes.
Summer is here.
Ill miss that bedridden sun. We had so much in common.
Night. Plenty enough for tonight, for a long while. Admittedly, I feel compelled by me. But not necessarily desire. Impelled by that hell-bitch sister grazing thread with her scissors. Doubt it, but there is something of a promise of permanence here, if false. By myself, desiring nothing. ehh. It seems stretched, from truth.