Eulogy for David R. Edwards

What does the darkness look like behind closed eyes? Is it black? Grey, I think, dark grey with traces of the afterimage of hands on keyboard, the bright screen in front of the eyes, the light of walls beyond. I’m still so angry, but it’s fading now. Accepting that I’m a prop in someone’s life. Thy refuse to take responsibility for their behavior. Lack of caring. This is becoming some crappy journal entry. I don’t like that. I don’t want that. This is supposed to be a place where writing can spin off into something good.

Nope! No expectations, otherwise it’s not freewriting, right? Crap all over the page if you like That’s the ticket.

Back to the matter at hand. When in doubt – pastoral. Can I write a pastoral about my house the way it exactly is right now? With the clutter, dirty dishes, table full of art supplies and bills and receipts. I have 940 square feet in this house and I spend 99% of the time when I’m here in this five foot square area.

Household pastoral – I like the sound of that.

An entry…

See you on the other side, David. Be well,
https://recordiauprin.bandcamp.com/album/davey-datblygus-policy-of-company