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I’ve never been more ready. Don’t be long!


Wouldn’t you ban all of the other things that kill your loved ones if you could?

Hours spent finding peace in the rain with two little crumpets & hoping to do the same tomorrow.


Now westlin winds and slaught’ring guns

Bring Autumn’s pleasant weather;

The moorcock springs on whirring wings

Amang the blooming heather:

Now waving grain, wide o’er the plain,

Delights the weary farmer;

And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night,

To muse upon my charmer.

The partridge loves the fruitful fells,

The plover loves the mountains;

The woodcock haunts the lonely dells,

The soaring hern the fountains:

Thro’ lofty groves the cushat roves,

The path of man to shun it;

The hazel bush o’erhangs the thrush,

The spreading thorn the linnet.

Thus ev’ry kind their pleasure find,

The savage and the tender;

Some social join, and leagues combine,

Some solitary wander:

Avaunt, away! the cruel sway,

Tyrannic man’s dominion;

The sportsman’s joy, the murd’ring cry,

The flutt’ring, gory pinion!

But, Peggy dear, the ev’ning’s clear,

Thick flies the skimming swallow,

The sky is blue, the fields in view,

All fading-green and yellow:

Come let us stray our gladsome way,

And view the charms of Nature;

The rustling corn, the fruited thorn,

And ev’ry happy creature.

We’ll gently walk, and sweetly talk,

Till the silent moon shine clearly;

I’ll grasp thy waist, and, fondly prest,

Swear how I love thee dearly:

Not vernal show’rs to budding flow’rs,

Not Autumn to the farmer,

So dear can be as thou to me,

My fair, my lovely charmer!

I hope you know a part of me is at home

“Don’t let the world bring you down

Not everyone here is that fucked up and cold

Remember why you came and while you’re alive

Experience the warmth before you grow old”

Hours is incredible. I need little else.

I’m finding it hard to know how to help from over here. Sometimes there’s a gulf between us and sometimes we’re attached and vibrating like 2 tin cans on a string, held to awaiting ears. Today there’s a gulf.

I just want to be able to see a face or squeeze a hand to try to gauge how my human is doing and to know what then might be the best thing I can do to help them. I’ll stop myself from talking about everything but what I’m thinking about. I’ll stop myself from saying anything if I could know they were okay and that there’s not something I can be doing that they just aren’t asking for. There’ll be tough times ahead and I will be there if I’m needed and live in that supporting role in other ways if I’m not, try to be solid and sound.

I like the time we spend together not talking. I don’t think that everybody needs to talk about something that they’re processing. I know that’s not how the best of brains work and I would never want that to be forced on someone for anyone’s selfish need to feel like they were helping. But in honesty I am finding it more difficult to find any peace this week and to imagine anyone else is finding any.

There’s not much substitute for being there and sometimes distance is just distance and no words will change that feeling.

“The answer is still silence I’ll take it as a maybe”

Like a little feathered indian

Callin’ out the clouds for rain

I’d go runnin’ through the thicket

I’d go careless through the thorns