This week between Christmas and New Year's Day is when most everyone reflects on the past year, and I usually join in. But this year, things have been so hectic that I haven't had time for reflection. At the moment, my head feels as though made of lead. There are undoubtedly thoughts in there, somewhere, but dragging them out and sticking them into clumps of words which make any sort of sense is beyond me. I think I need a bit of quiet time more than I need to think about the past, in any case.
We fray into the future, rarely wrought, Save in the tapestries of afterthought.