I'm kinda getting used to the way these things run, & have learned to "go with" what strikes me. Today we were presented with a table full of postcards. We were asked to select one & write a travel diary entry that would represent its story. The card that "struck" me was a picture of a broken lightbulb. I knew why, even as I walked back to my seat, & could hardly get to my pen/paper fast enough. What flowed from my pen was not exactly what one would call a 'travel diary entry,' but I wrote "my truth" in the moment nonetheless.

Thomas Edison's Broken Bulb
Time crashes forward as waves in the surf. We are a remnant of life once lived, now drowning in bureaucracy, swallowing, sputtering, choking.
Will we find, on the slick coral, purchase to propel ourselves loose? Will we ever twist free of that which ensnares us?
Bureaucracy cannot, must not filter its tentacles into our lives so deep, such that we trap ourselves within our own collective power.

God help us! Prevent this suicide from on-high, from within.
Else, like the broken bulb - or Atlantis - our culture will lie in shattered ruin at the bottom of the ocean floor.
Yep. My truth.
I do NOT appreciate the intrusion into my personal space, my home, my way of life. That should NOT be the government's role in American life, and I resent it. In my humble opinion, it's the beginning of that proverbial slide down a 'slippery slope' into a dark place in history, maybe even to the bottom of the ocean floor.
~~
Don't Tread on Me.
~~~
Don't Tread on Me.
~~~