I am too connected to you to slip away, fade away. Days away I can still feel you touching me, changing me... considerately killing me.
Dig a hole, burn some wood. Getting that winter chill in the air. New flat is cool, head is level. Glad to be housed, though still living a semi-itinerant lifestyle. So it goes.
Hope all is well, poppies. Will update more sufficiently soon. Keep the home fires burning.
Who told you the funniest joke of your life?
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