I couldn’t think up a valid excuse to release myself from judgment.
Instead, I just felt sick.
I am keeping some of the faces in the dark. I can’t recognize them in my waking as I did in the sleep. Perhaps they will come back to me, perhaps they won’t.
I hear rustling in the kitchen now in my waking void.
Last night was tempered with doing things I didn’t want to do, not getting to do what I wanted to do, and feeling like a member of the forgotten planet. Perhaps that is where the judgment rose. My clothes, held captive by my forgetfulness, in a dressing room filled with other people.
I wonder if a part of me hovers there when I am not visible to others. You know, how your subconscious mind never forgets anything like your conscious mind does?
This morning’s sunrise was not capturable on my limited camera abilities.
My to-do lists left unfinished from this week are scattered across my desk. Time to peel them up and put them in the trash can, start fresh.
Yesterday my sister experienced a miraculous time, partially because of me.
More forgotten planet If I wasn’t so cliché I would think of something else for forgotten planet.
Overlooked world. That’s it. Unnoticed orb.
Whining Sphere.
Instead of creating atmosphere, I am a whining sphere.
Poesy follows me.
I learned last night Robert Frost wrote his “Snowy Evening” poem in the summer. “Like a hallucination” he said, or something similar.
Last night I had a dream I was being judged. Maybe it wasn’t a dream.
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