I caught my brain red handed on its tracks. In other words I saw what it did. Or so I thought and think. Allow me to backpedal. My brain likes to feed on stuff that somehow has the commonality of working against myself. It is well documented on other beings of similar to my biological disposition. Brains of the “normal” spectrum tend to feed on negativity of sorts. Or so they say; they being the outer layer of the self core which is exposed to all sorts of stuff the universe throws out in earnest thrust atcha.
Allow me to explain in mundane words dear reader. I live alone as in I celebrate the 11th of November festivity. It is December 2025 in a western country (no big W for that word). Tradition mandates to wish everyone good tidings and as Swedes will have it, a good fellowship (gemenskap) which fellowship fails miserably to translate. Trust me, am an English speaker of sorts and an authority on the matter, it ain’t as close to it as one would suppose. It means more that a wish for enjoyment with a gathering is up to par. That is what that means. God gemenskap. I know what they mean and wish, they mean no ill will on behalf of no one. It is blurted out innocently with no malice. I would love to think it was so. Yet for all the graces in the universe granted to or bestowed upon us I know somehow in the back of my burner which kindles my inwards so much so as to turn my fat into chicharron that a devilish envy has been cast as fishing net to all us willing to be caught in it.
As a single person seeing this net being cast upon one and seeing its shadow envelop one, well, what is one to do upon said sight? You steer the heck away from it as far as possible as heck. You maintain course, keep an eye on the stars. The storm ahead will not sink us today. This hour is ours bequeathed unto us by the very gods that govern ours.
185 Han clachado