outage anomienuit everyone refreshed their screens, during the great social media outage - banging on the doors of a locked church, knowing they'd forget the prayers they intended to say if had to wait for tomorrow. how else to know your grade school crush put her mother in the ground, or that her cousin with the band you felt was overrated opted for the cobb salad at the diner you've been to once? sincere colors, filtered confessions, all bottle-necked and forced back into us for a day. suddenly we have to receive as the world does daily, the poison of the empty triumphant bulletins, our ritual soul-letting. we have to swallow back what we desperately need out. work emails still come in, from people we do or should know or will have to know under the old ways. each slat on the braided ladder of closed blinds, is backlit by sunlight, causing them to glow at the rectangles' top and bottom edges with the abstracted sun. the world behind blinds, not reduced to the track ride of algorithms is immense and quiet, no ads or autoplay music, full of plants and the dumb fiddling of cats and strollers. it chirps along on instructions not aimed at us, but just discerned and grown within us. I'd like to like it but no buttons are provided. I'll refresh again, my prayers will be collected, and I'll be told as I need now daily, that I'm holy and seen even with the blinds drawn tight. 211005 ... unhinged . 211006 what's it to you? who go blather from