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Microfracture 2nd day after

I felt sorry for myself today. Trapped in the house, stiff and sore, and lonely, on a bit of a bluesy trip from the pain meds. Things felt unreal. But the world continues to spin out atrocities, which also feel unreal. Tonight, I cannot write about the surgery. I think about History, & War, & Paris. I dream of Josephine Baker singing & dancing. Joy & pain. 

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