I have had quite a few ideas for blog entries, and most of those I’ve even started to write, but I don’t seem to accomplish as much as I’d like. Why? Add a few more things to my ever-growing list of maladies:
- inability to sleep the night
- incredibly disturbing dreams that aren’t scary enough to wake me up
- hypersensitivity in my skin that keeps me from sleeping (see #1) or from doing anything other than medding up and hoping for the best
Some things not yet written (with no promises/threats that they’ll ever land on this page:
- The “Mythical” Supervention
- Color My World
- The Open Book
- Family With All The Trimmings
- Above and Beside
- Abandonment of Admonishment
- .) (seriously, I don’t know why I titled it that. Probably a misfiring.)
- A Dearth of Intimacy
- Fear & Otherment (hey, if Shakespeare can make up new words, why can’t we all?)
- Evolution & Family Values
- Abusing St. Thomas
If the previous entry, “Tiburon Triptych” weren’t so semiotically turned in on itself, I would have no explanation for how that one got out of its cage. (Helpful Hint from Heloise: never try to make a right turn off of a Möbius Strip)
I can write this now because right now, after having slept (finally!), no tingling of the skin, headache-free (fleetingly), I feel not to cold, nor hot, nor tired, nor lazy, nor stressed (beyond usual), nor benightmared, nor anything but as close to “better” as I’ve been in a while.
Reason enough, no?
I have been reading your work for sometime with no comments. I am a shy old guy. Let’s accent the “old”. I have just relocated to SF from Dallas. My choice. I didn’t want to die in Dallas. Some county guy or girl could set that to music. Anyway. At times I sense your pain and your suffering. I am so sorry. We are somewhat similar. I wish you the best and may the future hold better things for you. Remember, without our dreams, life would be hell. Dream on. By the way, you look better without the beard…an old man’s observation.