When highs meet lows, the sum is simply life.

~ a no math answer to what kind of day it was.

Beneath our lowest lows hiding in the cellar where deeper truths are stored in the sub-basement of rawest emotions and dark corners of regrets, never hiding because in the light of day, they are so plain to see.

It was a good day.

It was a tough day.

It was a tough night.

The distance between a headache and a heartache, or an empty one-sided conversation, is both the bandage and the wound, a paradox of silent noise and peaceful chaos, the burden of vacant thoughts and the solitary back alley lane on a moonless night.

Someone asks, “You OK?”

No. Not today.

I publish this Musings column daily and post poems, short stories and other ‘plus/+’ content weekly. Many of you enjoy this content for free, and I truly appreciate your readership. Paid subscriptions are modest: $8 monthly (26¢ a day), $72 annually (20¢ a day), or you can donate any amount. Paid subscribers get extra content, but everyone is welcome - your presence matters. But if you haven't yet become a paid subscriber, I'd be grateful if you'd consider it.

Thank you for reading Musings,

Mark

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This week’s bonus [Musings+] postings for PAID subscribers:

SHORT STORY: END OF THE LINE ~ POEM: BIG PANTS

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