I don’t remember when I left the woods, but I took my boots off probably a few days ago. I am deteriorating, regressing. My blooded bug bites and compacted joints are healing, I slept all night. The days are blending together, I have buckwheat coming out of my ears. I have internet connection, and the little local shops accept my foreign credit card. My insular peace is limbo, we are neither living nor dead. Thank God nothing is forever.