Winter’s doorstep. Losing autumn’s glowing colours; splashing chilling rains. When you raise your head up over the parapet do you need to be needed? Do you want to be wanted? So much changes, so fast. Even looking at the past year.
Tax reporting time crawls up. Generosity and greed are two sides of the same coin. When addressing the donations list, it seems to be getting harder to conserve any privacy. Are you planning to sell my data among yourselves? This was an item in operating income for a charity I once worked for. As AI collects more and more I’m inclined to interact less and less.
Media-ting. Comparing yourself to your former self. Opening the box that leads to the past, when you were a different person, in a different place and time. What was collected, that you uncover unexpectedly, in another world: experiences exhausted, values expired, ambitions expiated.
Everything is collected somewhere, the good as well as the bad. Prayers collected in company, appeals in collect. ‘O Lord, you have searched me and known me.’ Do you want me and need me? Am I one of the collection? One of the donation? Within these endless changes, hold fast!
