Monday early-ish

So much social media writing throwing out missives hoping to be read or seen. Hoping if someone sees it, "likes" it, reads it, acknowledges it, then we have some validation. We have acknowledgment that we exist, either in general or from someone we imagine we are writing for. Hoping we are not alone in our way of thinking, acting. Hoping that whether we are or not (alone), we can still be understood, accepted. Perhaps not wanting to be the only one that knows what we know. (Not always, sometimes it's reporting on an event that needs to be known, but a lot of the time we want to be known. This isn't meant as a criticism, just as a compassionate acknowledgment. I don't think it's bad.) Great love to all of us, sending out our human feelers, trying to connect.

Still no birds singing the sun awake, though I did eventually hear a baby crow ask for food, probably from across the street. Gonna go cook something now. (For me, not for the crow, though there's always a chance it will be fed by me.)

I am still trying to let go of that one, but now I keep seeing men that look like him. I still think he's more beautiful than they are.

Happy Monday.

The one baby was SO loud! Crying and crying (lustily?) for one of the others to feed it. I was both laughing and cringing, it probably woke the whole neighborhood up, or at least my household. And then it hopped up on the neighbor's roof and stuck it's head in a pipe, don't think it cawed into that. Can you imagine waking up to that if it did?