Epistolary Expository Prose

Howdy, Y’all,

I think the a/c has been running since May. It’s August now, driving hotly through a summer of record temperatures and daily threats of more Texas power grid snafus. I just missed being born in this horrible month, but I know several who are so saddled. Yes. I should be grateful. Maybe I am, but.

I’m also somewhat non-clinically depressed and worried, not about me even though if I ain’t dead in ten years, I will be in twelve and if I leave the world better, will it be good enough?

Fourteen billion eyes, ears, and feet, for now; and I only ask for a couple dozen or so to be alright. Go ahead. Ask. How’s that workin’ for me?

Half of humanity seems nuts and hates the other half who hate back. There’s a hypothetical, conjectural god who seems completely cavalier about it all and is dismissal about unbridled slavery, too. They insist I stock credence and believe. What? Why?

The most important thing, apparently, comes conveniently after, and it’s not heaven. It’s hell. That’s where August takes all three-hundred and sixty-five days and nothing was last or is next and some guy keeps asking, what if this is as good as it gets? Ever?

Sweet dreams are made of this,

Amen to that,

Bill

PS: Everybody’s looking (both ways) for something. Mind the gaps for what some of them want to do. Who am I to disagree?

The Eurythmics have an interesting history.

14 thoughts on “Epistolary Expository Prose”

  1. Pingback: Epistolary Expository Prose – Dispassionate Doubt

  4. I love this. Well, I dunno where you get the 12 years from but still. A wonderful reflective piece.
    Just missed being born in this horrid month, does that mean you are an early September baby? A DamnVirgo? 😉 I am surrounded by them.
    I read this thrice. Or wait, is my memory failing me… are you a July baby?
    My mother is an August 5th. But we don’t have your heat. We do have our few weeks of disgusting, humid and hot, but there is a respite. Like today, and all this week. Low 70’s – perfection.

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    1. Thank you Dale.
      July 27th, I’m a Leo. 10, 12, more or who knows? It’s a random number.
      Yes–I envy having four seasons and reasonable temps, but this is a hot summer for many (Brits?).
      When we lived near Seattle we had two hot weeks and 4 seasons, mostly good. But now is fires time in the PNW. I hated that.
      Glad you loved the piece. 🙂

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      1. Oh thank goodness… Leos are much more compatible 😉 And I kept thinking I had wished you happy birthday but then I had a brain fart.
        Brits are suffering. Europe is suffering, actually.
        Us? Not too bad. I love having real four seasons 😉
        So sorry about fire season… That blows.
        I did!

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      3. See? FFS… my mind is a sieve. OF COURSE! Your birthday and FF and I wished you a bazillion times… What in the blessed fuck is wrong with me?

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