Lonely. There’s a bone to chew on. Yesterday’s warble ended, “For the first time in a long time, I am lonely.” I debated for a while whether to write that. Not that’s it’s not true enough, but hold on, it’s just another feeling. It didn’t kill me as a boy, won’t kill me now. Sometimes I even like it, as one might light the taste of horehound.
It is not loneliness that creates the headwind, but aloneness, the generic-existential chill of floating in space in a balloon of skin. We all know that feeling. One might see it as liberating. Or, one could get a dog and marry it, as Elizabeth said her brother-in-law has done.
I’ve been noticing our city has more dogs that ever. Have you?