8/4/2023

To know.
To will.
To dare.
And to be silent

Ardent readers of inkubo.org and those familiar with my old LiveJournal and heptapod.org will know I have a mystical bent, seeing omens and portents in the world. Realistically it gives me hope that I see details, regardless of their meaning.
In this case it regards my friend on Long Beach Island. She has a unique name one would know from a television program and until 2021 I didn't know there were any people named that in the real world. At the moment we're not hanging out because circumstances in her life ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and so it goes. Thing is on Thursday I saw her name pop up twice in separate contexts. One was on a niche social network site and, I believe, the other was InstaGram.
They were not her.
I'm embracing the idea the universe is suggesting we are better friends than I anticipate.

My friend in Matawan wrote me a note.
I'm touched she remembered my home address and that she thought of me.
Since July 19^th I haven't heard from her but kept up my morning salutations to her but stopped around the first of the month not knowing what happened to her. I did message her on InstaGram because I felt those messages would be more enduring than my texts since goodness only knows how her carrier will handle texts.
I went and put the note in my magic box for safekeeping.

Friday is going to be a busy day. Going to my podiatrist about the foot pain I've been experiencing since Saturday morning. Somewhere inbetween I gotta contact where she's recovering to see if I'll be allowed to visit her on Saturday. Later on Friday night I gotta write. On Saturday night I'm going to stop in Toms River to take care of the cats. Sunday will have me volunteering for the cat rescue.
My life is a rich tapestry.