I stepped out today to receive a delivery and my neighbor who sells me the cigarettes talked a bit with me ...

... she told me how dad would be telling her that a garbage bag by someone's door in our condo complex was really a boy on a bicycle, and she said there's nothing you can say to them, she's worked with those with dementia. And she said that there's people here who care, a nice little chat.

But now I am very tired, and must say my goodnight message, which isn't needed but out of the overflow of my schnapps glass my voice-box marches to the drummer boy, on some Unholy Night, where angels were barking, and all on a midnight clear.

Be kind to yourselves whoever here is struggling, whoever responds to your genuine struggling kinds of posts with insensitivity I say see them for who they are, little people who need to do low things to feel elevated, it's really pathetic, feeling a slight inward pity for meanies I think can help one not feel any kind of intimidation, look past them as they were ethereal ghosts with no substance, those who care, those have substance.

Later ......:)