I Don't Know What to Call This...So don't Ask!
Caveat Emptor: Surrealism Yesterday my 'home' was invaded and I'm still trembling and cowered from the 'events'. I knew the 'attack' would happen but I did not know the when, the where, & the how...and as I stand shell-shocked I cannot make out what was nor what is... It's like a painting left in the rain, that you come to meet after a shower, still dripping a blur of colors...the canvass dully showing the faintest of signs of having hosted something just so recently which cannot be fathomed and what existed beforehand which can never be retrieved. I write these words first to express my mourning of the member(s) of the household, cut down, disintegrated, wiped away. Still some lie disfigured, either agonizing and reliving the horror in utter pain and unending torture and/or silently slipping away to join the list of the departed. Someone sent this to me: "...let's plant trees brother; let's have groves of fr...