It seems this Christmas morning, we’ve been welcomed by the American version of a Buddhist monk immolating one’s self.
A melancholy bookmark of an ongoing human tragedy that would leave Shakespeare’s pen to quiver.
I stayed in bed today. Wound tending was in order, and a quiet Christmas day in stillness likely has fine qualities to complement perhaps avoiding other days of forced rest.
It was a sunny and warm Christmas day here. In a few days we will likely have rain, and the highs equal to the lows of today.
The sliding door to my room remained open, fresh air flowing in from mid morning to early evening.
I made phone calls to father and mother, returned one to the lovely Elisa, and fielded a few written communications back-and-forth with various loved ones about the continent.
Young Miss Stephanie was a great help this morning, and Nova busied herself with a strange day in the midst of separation.
Humors were light , if gallows nonetheless.
My fascination continues with the onset the the era of distributed and truly digital finance. Bitcoin made new highs today, an interesting novelty on a holiday for so much of the world.
The evening is winding down now, and me with it.
Sent from my iPhone
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…