hereafter tender_square the cumulation of these sweat-filled days needs laundering. a little soap and suds in agitation to strip away the oils; whatever has congealed and doesn’t allow the light to pass through. there are too many tasks to keep up with. and fragmented attention ensures nothing is done with full focus. the onset of decision fatigue overtakes me in the early hours. the fear returns, distorts an essential process on which i’ve come to rely. and the further i get from the last word written that i was proud of, and the sentences that came through me without impediment, the more i become convinced that failure is a direct consequence of my weakness. that my capacity for wonder has been compromised; that i am not present in the everyday act of living. 220428 what's it to you? who go blather from