ptlosd raze i think i have post-traumatic loss of squirrel disorder. ever_since what happened with little_guy, when i see an empty bag of potato chips or a cluster of leaves or a hunk of fallen tree bark on the ground, my eyes tell my brain the same thing no matter what they're holding onto. "dead squirrel". i always have to get a closer look. to make sure i'm not seeing what i think i am. i wish nothing i loved ever had to die. 220806 ... raze i caught sight of something grey with a white belly. and i thought, "don't fucking tell me. not again." it was a sweat sock. a sad specimen that had been turned inside_out and abandoned. still. poor sock. 221015 ... raze i spotted something black and flat in the middle of the road. my mind screamed no a million times. i ran to grab my glasses. our garbage pail lid. waylaid by an angry wind. 221030 ... raze the last time, it was a clump of dirt. just the right size to make me wonder. 230508 ... raze so many leaves now. but that works both ways. sometimes the wind tricks me into thinking they're the feet of friends who are still living. 231121 ... raze a sheet of fabric softener. not my own. how it came to rest in my back yard is anyone's guess. 240303 what's it to you? who go blather from