So you say,
The world of science and reason is cold and without love.
How is it then
That so much of the hating in the world
Is done in the name of religion?
So you say,
Ok, back to sleep.
Need new body. This one has too many bones and muscles in it that hurt.
The good news: the wound is closing fast (well, depends on how you define fast, the thing started in April so… (Yes, I am that patient)). The cost: all my muscles are so effing tends you could build a skyscraper on my back pain. Not really surprising, though, after having spent more than half a year 22 hours a day in bed in a not exactly back friendly position.
Who cares! The thing is closing, that's the important part.
Ceterum censeo Donaldum Trumpfum esse abrogatum.
I don't know how anybody can work in bed for a long time. I find it draining, physically, psychologically, emotionally, mentally, creatively (you may add any number of -lys you can think of). But then again I'm not writing any self-involved, overemotional, whiny reminiscent of better times suave crap. And right about now I guess it'll take five minutes till a black ops team of the Academy française arrives here to beat me to death with leather bound editions of In Search of Lost Time.
Off to sleep, stay calm, all you beautiful people.
lying on your back in your bed while watching the magnificent seven on the ceiling, not the worst way to spend two hours.