blue pill

hanging on to things beyond their natural expiriation is an ultimately destructive though very comforting skill. it’s much like struggling against a tide… futile, but in the short term strangely satisfying. even if the transition is assured to make things worse the best course is always to look forward instead of behind. but “best” is rarely the same as “most comforting”.

i fucking hate the end of things.

humming dirigible

i found two new friends this summer.  one was actually old but hadn't been my friend in a while.  and the other was brand cellophane new.  they made the late summer months much more fun.  i had forgotten how nice it was to have infecund friends, my other such friends having faded some time ago like dave and linda mcfly.  the very first thing we three did together was weekend in a country mansion on a cattle farm.  if you haven't done this recently i would highly recommend it.  it has a way of reaffirming what is most important in life:  absinthe, the world's  cheapest chicken, sunshine, and a mansion-wide integrated audio system to wake you up to whjb's classic hits in the morning. when you really consider it i am a cowboy at heart.

tango

things change so fast. 

not me of course.  i never change.  but my luck, my seasonal affect, my sheets… they all flip from state to state with breakneck pace, many times rendering the interim conditions essentially like they never happened for lack of external observation. 

so much has happened since the last time i wrote here.  more than the whole of this log up to this point.  but things are never the same when you write about them from a distance.  and with the constant whirring of change the words written about some semi-solid event could be totally different even hour to hour. 

i am not sure i will write about everything that happened in the gap.  but i will write about some.  and that is really all you can ask for without a voice.