Jiara’s fourth tantric chakra agleam. The camera even managed to capture it’s proper hue.
I found the graffiti in a storm sewer out in our fair capital, fit my song ’bout a girl nicknamed “MeatPit”.
Click the link below to play (or right-click to download):
I tread these two paths every week. The one on the left leads to my door, which can be seen in the trees. The one on the right takes me past St. Anthony of Padua Catholic Church to the retirement community where my father is dying of Lewy Body Dementia. Last year he was like the rest of us (mostly), but he deteriorated rapidly over the course of this year and has already lost his ability to speak, walk, and feed himself. He suffers continuous confusion wreaked by random brain damage and hallucinations but is lucid enough to know how terrible the end of his life has become. I do my best to comfort him and bolster his courage and implore him to not lose faith, even though what little was left of mine has vanished. That universal force we sometimes sense is not worth worshipping. Too fucking cruel.
Roosterhouse will be at the Craft Fair and Bake Sale at the MInnehaha Free Space in Minneapolis. Hope to see you there.