To be a retired major seems to me ideal. Too bad it’s not possible to have eternally been nothing but a retired major.

My longing to be whole put me into this state of useless regret.

The tragic futility of life.

My curiosity – sister to the skylarks.

The treacherous anxiety of sunsets; the dawn’s timid shroud.

Let’s sit down here. From here we can see more of the sky. The vast expanse of these starry heights is soothing. Life hurts less as we look at them; a whiff of air from an invisible fan refreshes our life-wearied face.