Oh god at last, I’m sitting down to spill daily, on the correct day and date, with half an hour of it left, and a voice that feels not wise, but at least strong.

It may not be all I would ask for, but it will surely do, to be able to call myself belletrist again without guilt or shame.

In some ways it was a terrible day, viewed from the perspective of society and economic survival. But viewing life from that perspective is a habit I am slowly losing, and I can feel real hot gratitude for that.

Fuck the system. Fuck the Empire. Long live the human spirit, even if it turns out to be in the end a failed experiment.

It’s a beautiful thing, to live and breathe and delight and suffer, as long as we may.

To the young man I was, and to the other one, my friend and relation who is young still, I say:

Look how many bullets you’ve dodged already brah.

You are the One and the Blue Highway is your natural home. Move and rejoice that you can move. Foxes have dens and birds have their roost, but the one true son of man disdains a fixed place to always lay down his weary head. Drink in comforts but know that like any good drink they are always slow poisons, and never let them take your breath without a righteous and bloody fight. Amen.