It is a sad song playing in the imaginary forest where my mind lives.
My wife doesn’t love me. She keeps me around to pay for stuff. But she rarely talks to me anymore and she never is nice to me. True, she’s not as mean as she was. But still rather mean.
I dedicated my life to education. I learned to teach students critical thinking skills. I taught students who did not speak English as well as they spoke Spanish, Vietnamese, or Mandarin Chinese to read and write in English. But schools are woefully underfunded now, especially if they are city public schools and teacher shortages exist because States like Texas don’t respect them as people, don’t pay them well, or assign them to jobs that can’t actually be done by one lone, dedicated teacher. And I am not well enough to help out with my teaching skills any longer.
Donald Trump may win back the Presidency again. I suffered under his administration, not benefitting from his massive tax cut, but rather, having to pay more than a thousand dollars extra each year since he raised my tax on my pension by over a hundred dollars a month and made me pay that extra hundred for every month in 2017. Trump is proof that the government only aids the greedy, rich bastards who buy what they want for laws that benefit only them, never the poor or the middle class.
I enjoy being a nudist outdoors in the sunshine and fresh air, but can no longer practice it because I am on medication that makes me susceptible to sunlight, like some kind of vampire.
Radasha, the faun, plays his recorder in the green wood that exists only in my stupid head. It is made up of many beautiful melodies packed with somber tones and tragic, trailing riffs. the music of the afternoon of a tired old faun.
Catch a Falling Star 