2024-01-24                         from the editor of ~insom
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   I'm in Dublin; everything is so lush and green and alive.
   This is what happens when it's so humid and wet all the
   time, but you still get decent sun. The concrete and the
   bricks on the lower floors of every building are covered in
   faint amounts of moss -- or the signs that moss was blasted
   off, at least.

   The hospice that my mum is at is one of the most alive
   places. It feels unfair that this is just a beautiful view
   out of her window and not a place she can go and spend time
   in. Not a single dead branch is visible even though it's
   Winter and I'm sure that's very-much on purpose. This is a
   place where everything has been thought of. I don't think
   she could be anywhere better, even though it's somewhere no
   one wants to be.