The flies are a good sign. Maybe this batch has avoided the formaldehyde dip.
I try not to think about it much.
I have many thoughts I choose to let alone.
And yet there is an elegance, a loveliness, that defies even the dross and dirt of closer examination.
The ferries are packed, crowded, cramped; tiny worlds. I see boats so heavy laden that just staying above the water seems a miracle. There must be magic…
I’m glad that I can swim, although this black murk-muck looks like death at a splash…
The stench is indescribable, unspeakable. I have no words so awful.
Life is lived against the odds, a tide turn. I may as well hold my breath and enjoy it..