I finished writing something this morning — “They Felt It” — and felt good about it. Once I had completed it and done all the afterwork, I shut the lid of the computer and sat back…and once again felt the let down of of completing a solid piece of work and getting so little back from it.

It’ll get noticed by 10-50 people, a handful of people will like it, no one will comment for it, no one will comment against it, and tomorrow it will be ignored. I will put it into a book and someone will say they like it and within a year it will be ignored.

Meanwhile…climate change, Gaza, Biden/Trump, etc., etc., will be thrashed out…and ignored. The cost of living, the rise in housing costs, the crisis of education, the split among the parts of the country; my personal troubles, my strife in life, my struggles with all and sundry both medical and financial — all adding up to a crisis unforeseen — damnation…all will be finally swept aside and ignored. They’ll bury me somewhere and forget about me.

I know better than to ask you not to forget.