Many months draped in an invisible disease. The hysterias of Us and Them, framed in ever-growing echoes. The erosion of empathy and self-reliance. The raw and open wound of corruption beneath the concrete. Sitting seiza, and still, in the maelstrom. Chanting inaudible sutras within the rising screams. The warm glow of thankfulness mantling my shoulders. Swaddled gold memories in the well of gratitude. Scintillating laughter in a quiet kitchen, plucked from tickled ribs. An aging, Asian father with an ocean's accent. A young woman, turned wife, become pyramid pilgrim. Scribbling a thank you to absentee angels on the doorframe of my heart. The enduring strength of classics, and the complex dichotomy of the Hive Mind. Ego death, from asphyxiation by adoration, and the soft light of tea candles. And again, the gentle touch of affection in the small hours before sleep. An embarrassment of riches for the curmudgeonly. A frabjous day, turned year.

5:50 p.m. - 2020-11-26