With the last day of 2022, I release an updated version of my site! OK, so you might think, "It sure looks an awfully like the old one..." Just TRUST me, there was a LOT of work done under the hood!

First, I pulled all the _includes pieces into one default.html...OH SILLY ME, that means NOTHING to YOU—that's just what the gnomes do behind the scenes!

OK, so things on the front end:

• Wider page for content (not practical for phones) with retaining text length restriction for posts;
• Responsive navigation (for phones);
• Somewhat responsive tables (for phones);
• Breadcrumbs added;
• Table of contents for select pages added;
• Link styling that now includes a heads-up for off-site;
• Diary and Poetry indexes can now break up into 3 columns;
• Reworked styling specific to poetry pages.

...and there's a handful of bits that I did, but *shrug*, I don't remember.

I'm really proud of my Destination '23, my take on the New Year Resolutions. It took DAYS to create, not for the design or the words, but for its ideas and implementation.

I choose...

...to activate things that worked well in 2020;
...to achieve things I failed to do in 2021;
...and to do what I should have done in 2022.

Yes, I'm going on an adventure...

Many places I have been
Many sorrows I have seen
But I don't regret
Nor will I forget
All who took that road with me

Billy Boyd, The Last Goodbye

I am weak; I am a fragile creature. I know that's not what the script says. I'm supposed to puff my chest and live like my end date isn't already punched. We do that, don't we? We just go on and on ad nauseam with our polarizing politics and our polished prattle.

And yet, I rub my left shoulder from December 2020...my elbow from the spring's pre-sunrise run...or this knee from August...or that August bit of ceramic in my foot. I need no reminders. It is everpresent that we are all under entropy; We are all breaking down.

I'm reminded of these Flaming Lips' lyrics:

Do you realize
That everyone you know someday will die?
And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
Doesn't everyone know we're all about to die?

Gone are the summers of my youth. They were here—I had them—I turned my back for just a second, and now they are gone.

But, death is not annihilation. Truthfully, I'll never die. And this fascinates me. Yes, sometimes I get caught up with what I'm supposed to be sad about...until I come to my senses. On this side of things, I gaze out on the horizon and think of the separation—sure, death, but also the realization that people may still be alive who once played a prominent role in my life are now...just gone. And the last time I saw them, I sure didn't think it would be the last time I would see them. It would be paralyzing if I knew.

Drive all night
Into the midnight

Another day of low-pressure water pipes: HOWEVER, I have heat and a plan for a 2023 future. It was only days ago when I said aloud to myself about the freezing temperatures in the house, "I can't sleep in my bed because I would literally die in there."

A week has passed since I've taken a shower. Do I stink? Hardly! I haven't EVEN used deodorant since 2020! Note to the reader: I haven't emptied this much cologne either since 2000. There was once a time when I went four months without a shower in 2004—getting clean does not have to be such a luxurious ritual. It just takes the shattering of Instagram fantasy with a sledgehammer. I'd argue that I remove more bad gunk with my rubbing alcohol wipes and coconut oil massage ritual than splashing water about.

Rental and MLGW failures aside, I recognize that evil has overrun the city. Indeed, this is a dark place. The light is held no longer; it is not the home I knew. The hour grows long in Memphis. As each day passes, my time here fades. In more practical matters, I'd rather not spend the time thinking up solutions for things I should not have to solve, whether mitigating a lack of water supply or performing threat analysis.

It is a minor luxury, but I do like this canned Kroger seltzer water as I write to yesterday's stream, more so than my typical Sodastream water. This new drink of mine has all the nuanced joy of...a cold Bud Light.