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Sacrifice of celebration

Moments to be still keep escaping me. Maybe it's not the moments but the stillness that escapes. Whatever the case, I'm on the run again: going out for dinner and miniature golf in celebration of Connor's birthday. My flesh would love to rest instead, to enjoy a moment or two of work-free solitude, but there are more important things than my hermitic tendencies. Connor has few friends left here in Seattle: Sara, Evan, Eva, and me are the entire possible guest list. Some lay down their lives for their friends— I've seen it. The least I can do is lay down a night.

So again, I hope to write later. I've gone from unsettled to irritable to full-blown angry today, and I suspect each shade darker is a shade closer to the truth. That's not a truth I feel ready to face down.

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