Six o’clock.
I woke up from bad dreams of the lockdown and so I got up to shake them off. Today I need to run over to the veterinarian for Aesop’s flea med. I remember the last time I went: some of the house fronts were decorated for Christmas along the sidewalk of Silver Lane. But it was hard to have the Christmas spirit when I live alone. I was just thinking about how silly I’d been to believe that my sobriety was blessed by God a few years ago. Yet maybe a lot more people had faith in religion back then. I don’t know. About a week ago I pulled out my French copy of Blaise Pascal and pondered the introduction. What brought on his religious crisis on that fateful November night? It came out of nowhere to this successful mathematician and scientist. Now he’s only known for his religious writing, very personal to him and published posthumously. Was he illuminated somehow or was he delusional? To me it seems like everyone in America got a megadose of wormwood at the Millennium, making us crazy and stupid for a long time. Some people still haven’t recovered from it. There are times when I could use a dash of color in my life, though I doubt if religion is the way. It’s a big mystery.
robgradens 
I’ve heard that some of the indigenous tribes here called all of existence including their origin, the spirit world, and God by the name of ‘The Mystery’. I find that to be sensible and appealing.
LikeLiked by 1 person