09 January 2026

 


I feel such apathy

  I fear that is an oxymoron 

because apathy is the void of feeling, isn’t it? 

or is it the exhausting of it …. I am not sure 

    but I am lost in a wilderness 

  a lone wandering animal in the woods among things I fail to understand 

but more still it is too that whatever once mattered is gone 

   what a terrible kind of desert that is 

and find what sick fascination in the drama of Medici —only it echoes our current world and so that no longer feels escape from …. the horrors of the backdrop of the current reality…. 

my wolf pack is gone. They just didn’t make it as far as me. So what do I do now….? what is the purpose ….when it seems really none; futile all …. and —Is it anomie or apathy ….? I distract my brain with nit picky stupid questions like these 

to avoid the hard pain ….everybody disappointed me in my life—how hard a pill to swallow is that ….my standards too high? ….or am I just too straight and narrow devout ….devout to some faith I blindly believed in which was about ideals I carried and was always ascribed to, even here; never wavered 

but was I too brittle not to bend and move with the status quo’s empty promise to fulfill the soul with consumerism behavior ….find that road to the dollar signs and sell yourself 

05 January 2026

Captioned hook

 

“Oh no, they’re here!” Lily leaned up against the door she had just come through 

“Hey Miss Tiger!”

“Shut up John!” Michael said and blew a spit wad at him 

“It’s ‘Tig-ghere’, stress on the second syllable, you dolt!”

“What’s a dolt?” John looked at his brother 

“You idiot!” Michael said 

“Now, now, what’s this all about?” Wendy walked into the room with the coffees, “I could hear all of you from the coffee machine!”

“They’re here!” Lily said having now walked away from the door and was peering out the office window that overlooked the parking lot below as she absently brushed imaginary lint off of her pumpkin colored sweater which had a collar that looked like flower petals around her face 

Wendy calmly put down the tray with their coffees and walked across the room to join Lily by the window 

“Did you talk to them? They seem nice from here….”

“From here?” Lily looked at Wendy, “do you have an eagle eye? I don’t get your optimism. I mean…. I was running late so—I realized who they were because of ….you know, the car….”

Wendy tried to look better into the parking lot,

“Did you see it?”

Suddenly John and Michael joined them by the window hoping for a glimpse of the much talked about vehicle 

But Lily seemed bored now and shrugged, walking away from the window,

“I don’t think he came here in it—but I mean I realized who it was because of the car—you know, the stretch limo the Darlings always use to fetch corporate shitheads.”

Well, they had spent so much talking awhile they didn’t realize how close until the footsteps landed and the office door swung open

There was George Darling with two others; a man (kind of boyish) in a very smart and neat Scottish green tweed suit and a woman (small in statue; a petite pixie) dressed in a pink herringbone jacket and skirt suit wearing pink bowed pumps with tiny kitten heels. 

“Let me introduce our new clients from Nether—nether….ha-chew!!!” Mr.Darling sneezed, “land….” he said and paused to blow his nose

“Never never land?” John looked at Michael 

“Nederland!” this is when the new client in the Scottish green tweed business suit stepped forward. It seemed as if he suddenly grew quite tall but agile and yet somehow sprite; and once seen in the light almost gleamed with a magic that surrounded him, like an aura of charisma and with it like a torch, his hair was a flame of reddish blond, its luster like electricity,

“Pieter,” he at which point said by way of introducing himself, going straight first to Wendy Darling, “Pan…. just flew in today—do you like to fly? Wendy, is it?”

John elbowed Michael remembering the memo now about them. The girl—uh—woman—he and Michael had spent the afternoon looking her up on Instagram 

“TeenykayBell!” John suddenly laughed 

“It’s Tinker Bell!” Michael said with an admonished whisper everyone heard 

“What the fuck is a tinkerbell?—no—it’s actually Tina Kerbell—but I go by Teen not Tina,” she made a point to correct 

Then she noticed the pretty pumpkin colored sweater she recognized from a picture in a magazine in the shade—and she blurted it suddenly—“Tiger!”

But by kneejerk reaction thus came the offended reply,

“Lily!”

 


    in a perfect world, one should never be desperate 

The walls that echo