I wonder if the desperation of death attracts positive energy. Not death, really, just an inability to generate the funds to continue, loss of interest bordering on sickness. A few people emerge from the woodwork, perhaps to help, perhaps to feed on the carcass? Or possibly, hospice workers to help release the soul. Release! New ideas emerging, not the least of which is just giving up and getting out. Previous threats to chew my leg off were possibly not sufficiently plaintive . . . and now I have a numb spot on my left calf. I’ve made so much progress, so few photographs of what has changed, it looks bleak from inside my head. What’s going on out there?