i am NOT resolving to write something every day. NOT!! it’s just a coincidence, two days in a row. history will prove me right. having said that…

this morning i dreamed that my father came back alive. he was tall, younger, and healthy-looking, but he was still demented and confused. he still didn’t understand why my mother was non-functional and i had to take over her jobs in the house. i tried to explain, but he just didn’t get it. then, in a gesture of reconciliation very foreign to me, i attempted to express affection toward him, since i had this second chance to overcome my aversion and resolve things once and for all. he was even more uncomprehending of this new development, and resisted. finally i just gave him a kiss anyway. he didn’t know what to make of that. neither do i, but there it is. not my usual kind of dream. a psychic tabula rasa, perhaps.

i’ve almost finished the ordeal of cleaning out the hall closet of horrors. a big manila envelope full of ancient, disintegrating flushable paper toilet covers… ‘sanitary protection for the whole family wherever you go’ ?! just—unbelievable. not as scary as the douche-bags, though! i found some mummified remains of something, not human. and that’s how i usher in the new year.

there seems to be a repetitive theme here, of giving the old baggage an enema. not too elegant, but probably true.

and there you have it, nyd in the voe.

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