Random thoughts on thoughtlessness.

It’s been a year. Read that with any intonation you want and that’s how I meant it. The year has been a dreamscape, a random series of interconnected randomness. Of snippets. Memory and memories. The relentlessness of time and also its absence. A year of lack and, if you’re one of the lucky ones, of great love. Though I don’t assume anyone’s luck or good health or happiness. It’s not the right…