Dear Apples,

I saw a social media report recently that confirmed that this past August may have just been the very worst month of the year.  The news was ultra disheartening day after depressing day, and not even the sunshine could provide distraction from the bad taste in everyone’s mouth.  It seems we collectively lost our purpose for while, which is the consequence of too many heavy headlines.  There were days when I opted for culpable ignorance and decided not to open a single news-site.  I debated whether this was cowardly, and decided that I don’t really care; sometimes willful naivete is the only form of self-defense.  I’ll tell you though, it was certainly a relief to see this report and realize that at least I had company in the misery boat.  I’m amazed at the human capacity to shock ourselves with our own inhumanity.

September is already looking up, but even so, the world continues to feel a bit like a sad snow globe.  I want to run because the problems before me are daunting, but I hit glass.  Then the news media tries to redeem itself with occasional sprinkles of glitter, but they seem chintzy and pathetic when the state of the globe affairs are still so off-kilter.  Ah well, this is life.  We make the best of what we have and wait for the joy to return as it always does.  I’m a bit incoherent and convoluted today.  There’s a lot inside, but it seems to be clogged up.  This seems to be a frequent experience, as I even wrote a poem about it once:

Excuse

Whenever I try to speak to you I find
I send my words down to the door of my mouth
And somewhere lost between the mouth and the mind
Though they are quite hell-bent on traveling south
They get stuck

They bump and budge, and by the time they arrive
Some are missing, while others are so battered
They lurch forward, mulish yet barely alive
And all my hopes for clarity are shattered
Just my luck

So when I’m garrulous, rude or just plain mute
Don’t think that my words and wits in concert act
Recall instead that, contrary to my will
En route to my mouth, the few words left in tact
Run amuck

IMG_4680

Well, Apples, that’s all for today.  Thanks for listening.