I had major surgery 3-4 months ago…replacement of two heart valves…6 weeks in hospital. Now doing physical therapy, cardiac rehab, most days of the week…in a gym, no less.
In a strange (not totally unfunny) place since the surgery, somewhere between “life” and “death,” “dream” and “wakefulness”…somewhere with little or no “motion” or “action” other than “mental.” Everything has quotes around it and very little I can do except quote…verbatim.
What I do in my head is nothing like writing, tho, which is difficult not because writing was ever easy…it was just so familiar, such an accustomed procedure (for so long).
I very rarely feel WISE, a possessor of wisdom and experience(s)…I am merely an old man dawdling through OLD MAN THOUGHTS, often benign but not exactly “pleasant.” Opinions, sure, but opinions are for fugging BLOWHARDS. Commotion REDUCTION is my primary pastime. (Is it Buddhism yet?)
Ageism: the final oppression.
I do still write, sort of, but only in miniature. Commas, colons, but not too many periods. Fragments? Fragments. Mini-fragments. Words crossed out.
And you, my friend?