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the month in between posts, and oh the occurrences.
film festival is near underway. gray hairs and migraines all around. is it enough to give yourself completely to something and in return, without expecting any sort of reciprocity, begin to wither away into the beast of tasks and redundancies?
the transition from winter into spring has been rough for lack of a more appropriate word.
there were reported snow flurries in manhattan a few days ago; in a time in which by all means mr. springtime-sunny-robin's-nest-tulip-bud should have been on arrival. there is something most definitely amiss, and no one had the time to send me the postcard reminder.
so on and on we all tumble into the future, as the day unfurls itself like a lazy blooming blossom. while i sit in sickness and tissue paper fighting off cranial pressures and scrambling to troubleshoot international print traffic, i remember that this perhaps was what it is all about.
why complain so much when you knew that there could be no hustle, without the bustle?
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