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the good poets have said, don't write in the afternoon. yeah. Phil, wrestling me down into bed, what you think we're teenagers. I've got tons of Epsom salt for a bath, I use it to pour over my head. mine today, don't know, don't fuckin care, the days are morphing together for all I feel.

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I'm more rational today

 just a combination of many things, social media, no free speech, after all the time I've spent, Phil's diagnosis, my fight for justice inching on 30 years of fighting, and seeing no light at the end of tunnel, thinking I'm doing it all myself, and can't get a simple reply of encouragement. plus I do everything to access, and getting burnt out so often, they made fun of me about that too, when so many people are like me.  you think you got me figured out, think again! I've decided to stay on my blog, and keep Messenger, and the internet, but no social media posts anymore, but I haven't deleted any account.