Something that hit me, way back an aeon or so ago when 2026 got its boots on and jumped out of bed– someone said "Keep a 2026 diary".. This is not going to happen again. So I did. In my inimitable way.-- In both Chinese, English and my own weird kind of poetry. Because I adore writing poems that do not actually have much in the way of words. I think I am the only one who feels like this. All the other birds in the nest look at me oddly and throw the “cuckoo” word around. Yeah I definitely have some Aries and Mr Chironpants issues. Not to mention houses, One, Two, Three and Four. Sigh. More weirdness landed this week. I timestamp my diary entries, and sign them, because this is a diary. And I am writing it. But today, for no apparent reason I wrote for someone. Specifically for my dead brother.. And for my dead mum. So from My Notebook For No One– by 松鸦Ravens Sōng yā means “Pine Jay” 2026, 26 June,夜晚, yèwǎn, night 松鸦Ravens Mum… ah— the simple pleasure of mushroom soup and bedtime. 妈... 啊—蘑菇汤, 睡觉, 简简单单的快乐。 ________________________________ 2026, 16 June 6.05pm 松鸦Ravens 哥,秋天的光都累了。 冬天一来,跟做梦一样。 我心里沉得很, 有个朋友-- 走了. Bro, autumn’s brightness grows tired, winter arrives in a dream. heart heavy, my friend- gone. Gaadualy, grad…ually a whole year worth of these are piling up. For no apparent reason. But it seems to be important for me to do right now. Maybe because the world is changing and something seems to be leaving. Something important.