2019 has started off on a sad note, for me personally. There’s been a death in the family. Cancer. Long illness. A death I could see coming from miles away. But that still doesn’t make it any less painful. Such is the nature of death. No matter how prepared you think you are for it, you never are. When it finally happens, the sting always hurts way more than you initially thought it would. Even if it was a family member who was in many ways your walking philosophical antithesis, it still hurts to see them go.
At this point, I can’t see January to be a heavy blogging month. I may spend the remainder of the winter writing macabre poetry about wrathful Tibetan deities that I’ll never bother to publish and will probably get stolen and used thirty years from now as an advertising jingle for either a child’s toy or a marital aid, on a medium that doesn’t exist yet. Or maybe the complete opposite will happen, and I’ll be back in peak blogging form as early as next week. It’s difficult to tell with these things. The only thing I know for sure is that medicine wheels are turning, like they have since the dawn of time. That, and the Twitterverse will be in for a real treat this month.