A month. That is a long enough time, in summer, to grow a healthy plant. I write to remind you, (you know who you are), that you are alive just like one of those plants, and the sun is out, and you should get out there and sweat under it, smell the air and the dirt.
Be still. Feel pain and sun both. Grow towards good things.
Time will whorl scars into hard knots and burls that can endure
...or not; we shall see.
August 31. Still here.
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