Between particle phyics, and liminal sci-fi book review, videos, I felt an opportunity to write something in my particular not-a-song style just to give voice to my time-use.
I may finally break out my paints and go visual...
any way:
To see their people, or escape our weather.
Days of downstairs video viewing
watching shows I'd purchased and
keep repeating.
Nearing finish on the second novel:
Plotlines tending and resolutions render.
My own circumstsnces can't be mastered
until crisis forces open avenues suspended:
Much like awaiting deployment, I imagine,
and how that chapter of mine yet unwritten.
What will it look like, imagination's-
exercise seems pointless while yet I have
shelter.
If only I were a bandit in a hideout waiting
-- or in fallout shelter to surface exploration...
:: Instead like Schroedinger's kitty my
Quantum Indetermination is still in box lid
Superposition revelation suspension.
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