Do not divorce from your tattered wounds. Patch them up. Wear them proudly.

 For example, I’m listening to the new Blur album. I'm vibing greatly to it. It dropped over five months ago, but it seems the YouTube algorithm died for me. Obviously, the music I really love slipped through the cracks of algorithms and videos. Lame.  And you know what they say, "Don't wish for stuff." Actually, I just made that saying up. Someone said something similar ages ago. My ADHD brain messes with me by hiding memories from me. Maybe it's some PTSD? Which one is in line?

Nowadays, traumas seem to be trendy. Various coping methods, but none of them work. No one heals any wounds because there's no healing. You can only ease it a bit. As they say on the Holy Mountain, something like, "Your soul is torn, we'll patch it up, but the wound stays." No joke. It's a cross to bear, end of story. Get used to it.

Until that wound or wounds heal - and trust me sometimes they do heal at the rate that Hollywood spews all the remakes that fade from memory even quicker - I recommend you listen to some Blur, Katie Melua because I'm the DJ, now.

Enough with the abstract vague abbreviations. Turn the music up. I`ll be going on about hard stuff.

Russian Strings and Fourteen Windows. Merry Christmas. Merry wounds. Do not divorce from your tattered wounds. Patch them up. Wear them proudly.