Me this month looking all whatever. Haven't had a salon haircut or dye for quite a while (close to a year?), but recently, my mom cut my bangs and trimmed the rest of my hair, out on my front porch, both of us with masks on. Later when I brought my black flower inside from the porch, there was a bunch of human hair hanging from the petals.
This month has felt like a pretty massive stress fest and I feel behind with everything (especially reading and writing), questioning humanity, anxious, worried, borderline depressed sometimes, physically uncomfortable with my own body, and fucked up.
Some people are annoying me to death with their clueless carelessness and lack of respect for others. I sort of want to get into more detail about that but I won't (yet).
Parts of me annoy myself too.
It bothers me that I haven't finished a new poem for a while or submitted much poetry (if any) this month. I have two assembled poetry chapbook manuscripts that are just sitting around inside my own computer, not being submitted anywhere. I should probably just publish one of them myself, but I don't know.
I'm thinking I might finish a new short series of poems sometime this week. I found a place I want to submit them too, but first I have to finish them.
I have some cool owl photos I took at a park a few weekends ago but haven't shared yet. Does anyone care about anyone other than themselves? I think some people do, some people don't. Maybe the owl does. I don't know.
Lately, I have a hard time going to bed and a hard time getting up.
I hate the idea of individual people suffering and dying in hospitals by themselves while tons of other people just don't seem to care very much.
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