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It is dark times here.

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I am too much absent, and I feel bad about it, and then I resent feeling bad, and then I chase my tail until I catch it and chew it into a bloody stump.

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Ah, me.

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You know, yesterday there was this wonderful item in the New York Times online, asking readers what their biggest indulgences were. I read all of them, five hundred and seventeen.

It made me cry with a profound and silly happiness.

Simple joys, simple pleasures topped the list.

Today they seem impossibly distant.

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Sending peaceful thoughts your way….

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