May the 8th be with you

[Cagliostro_the_Impossible]

Noticed recently I've been acting like Dwight Frye in Dracula (1931), and have tried to perfect his macabre laugh (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHDnWnYtKNY), on city buses or queuing up for ever scarcer & more expensive supplies ... never waste an opportunity!

Output has diminished somewhat as of late due to a change living circumstances, I'm no longer a subterranean in the burbs, but hanging upisde down in the belfries amongst my fellow sky dwellers; gargoyles, caryatids, et al. watching this big ol' biomass in a time of pandemic & social unrest.

Dreams have been vivid. One in particular. I was in a park here in the city by the riverside. Northside of town. Close to 6th Street Bridge. Before I could cross this woman approaches lead by a large black dog without a leash. She looked unremarkable. Dog play bites my hand before I could cross the bridge. Leads me back from the bridge. I spent the remainder of the dream trying to read the phone number on collar so I could return to owner. That's all I remember. Signs & portents.

I lived here as a younger man. I see a version of myself walking as I once did and try to follow as quickly as I can, quickly so as not to lose it all again... those old familiar haunts. Old friends, dead & gone, are still there. Remnants, scattered limbs and fragments, remain in this blown-out crater of the Contemporary.

Hope all is well, and HBD to Mr. Pynchon!

Cheers!

Sent with [ProtonMail](https://protonmail.com) Secure Email.