Calypso Sally has been away for sometime now, and the dreary weakness of such a sudden disappearance is a drag for my optimum pseudo’s ego. She wants to shine just like Beyoncé‘s Sasha Fierce. Except I can’t fake a personified pseudo while being unemployed, sick without insurance, no close friends or a lover to indulge in the delusional fantasies of playing in an orchestra in space (actual space, where you witness, full-flesh, the moon orbiting around the sun…).
While I still want to play in space, I have to dread through the matter of gravity, and just talk to my cat, Charlie, about this. His charming deadpan stares is kind of like: I’m glad you’re functional and can still feed me. I love him so much, even more so now. It would suck royally if anything…Ugh!
Stay warm, but don’t lose your mind!