Past Blooming Not I

I've been around, but not here, which is obvious- though the thinking's still thought, fraught with all the perils of being only in the mind, nonexistent in a form physical and material, and I have had so many of these dreams which have kept pushing me back into the game of getting the thing done, the right thing, which is writing, but it is difficult, i say difficult and it is, for lack of a better word, though I could use a damned monumental effort, to bring myself back from the easy comfort of having done a good job, but not good enough, surely, for perseverance is the matter at hand, and to live or to die is simple, but living   in the correct manner is a totally different thing, not just the pathetic relaxation which is desired by the feeble the impotent, but rather the need the desire the will the absolute necessity of working- work, work, and more work.

What I have to offer in terms of images, for I have not been gathering them much of late, is something from the Imperial palace in Tokyo, of which there was not much of interest to see, though cameras were being snapped every which way.  All I could find were some lotus ponds, past their bloom.