I'm not angry.

Which I find remarkable.

Not even a little bit. I'm not offended, I'm not even really that surprised.

I am a little confused about things I've learned recently.

I think that inadvertently, one friend proved another friend right: my friends are afraid of me.

Either that, or they are all looking out for number one a great deal more viciously than I have been these last few years.

Maybe I should remedy that?

But I don't really want to bare my teeth and threaten to rip the world's throat out any more.

That's how I felt after the last couple of times this happened. . . now I just feel old and tired and past it.

Everyone seems so desperate to maintain the moral high ground. Why is that? When did post-dating our objections make them somehow justifications for our misbehaviour?

It's a mystery I can afford to ignore. I can afford to let things drift in a way I couldn't before.

I have to make a decision in the next two weeks. . . see the house issue resolved, or sell all my belongings and walk out of the world.

Am I ready for a leap as giant as that just yet? I would like to plant a few seeds here before I go--a grove of comfort and a harbour from the storm would be welcome assets in my later life, but maybe I'm meant to stay adrift?

If so, I certainly bought way too much stuff during this past couple of years.

Ah well, perhaps it is time for a garage sale of sorts?