Manually inserting all those little files, enduring the mind raging against the once more utterly destroyed formats and line-lengths... My life had many adventures & ordeals. Some of my friends, just two decades too late, even realized that precisely that was my problem and downfall. Well, downfall or pride-fall, opinions vary on that part. I never turned back.


I named this file 'Attempted Poetry'. At this part of the work, on date of editing, I was tempted to name it 'Contextual Poetry', as that would proverbially pin-point my stronger aspect. Such was learned during the secret courses we authors do in absence of our readers. Strategic Marketing of sorts. Did never work for me.


It is Sunday. Second day of being comparably sick and exhausted. I didn't make it to the supermarket, and am angry about the extra-costs of buying Cola & Milk at the gasoline station or kiosk instead. Even though, to be fair, the prices here are much better than in the city-part I was coming from.