Stuff
Many things going through my head today - don't really know where to start in writing things down.
Plum job upstate I'm going to apply for, and pray, pray, pray that I get.
Two friends moved to New Orleans this year, but never gave me their address, only e-mail which has not been active for months. Don't know how they fared with Katrina, don't know if I'll ever hear from them again.
If "consumerism" wasn't a virtue in this society, would looters be rampaging through streets after the hurricane?
Is this society held together by such a thin thread, that a disruption in "order" would result in people acting out?
Those sheep that followed each other to their deaths not too long ago, suddenly come to mind.
The Presidential Shrub cut his vacation short by two days. Must be tough. I don't understand it. Why isn't "the Nation" crying out for his hide? I remember the outcry over the fact that Clinton got oral sex in the Oval Office, and lied about it. Nothing as heinous as this man's flagrant disregard for humanity. He lies to go to war - remember Ross Perot's "Giant Sucking Sound"? - well it's now been diverted from Washington, and pointed toward Iraq. And apparently, it's all ok.
My neck hurts, it's bunched so tight. I'm out of Ativan.
On the one hand, I like not taking it. I think it contributes to the depression. On the other hand, I'm wound so tight that it's probably not healthy.
I'm looking out the window at the calm water in the harbor, and (thinking past the pollution) I'd love to just float in it awhile... Bob like a cork, and let the living waters, and Devas take me where they will.
Been meaning to record my dreams. I get lazy. If I don't do it within a few hours of waking, the meat is gone, and all that's left is the aftertaste. I had a dream that would have made a freaky short story had I written it down. It's funny, cause after the dream was over, I was telling myself that that would have made a great short story, and how I could continue to write down the dreams that are short stories til they make up a book. It was all very clear. Then I woke up and forgot to write it down. I remember snippets as to why it was freaky, but not the "money shot" as it were.
Gas here is almost 3 bucks a gallon. And so it begins.
Plum job upstate I'm going to apply for, and pray, pray, pray that I get.
Two friends moved to New Orleans this year, but never gave me their address, only e-mail which has not been active for months. Don't know how they fared with Katrina, don't know if I'll ever hear from them again.
If "consumerism" wasn't a virtue in this society, would looters be rampaging through streets after the hurricane?
Is this society held together by such a thin thread, that a disruption in "order" would result in people acting out?
Those sheep that followed each other to their deaths not too long ago, suddenly come to mind.
The Presidential Shrub cut his vacation short by two days. Must be tough. I don't understand it. Why isn't "the Nation" crying out for his hide? I remember the outcry over the fact that Clinton got oral sex in the Oval Office, and lied about it. Nothing as heinous as this man's flagrant disregard for humanity. He lies to go to war - remember Ross Perot's "Giant Sucking Sound"? - well it's now been diverted from Washington, and pointed toward Iraq. And apparently, it's all ok.
My neck hurts, it's bunched so tight. I'm out of Ativan.
On the one hand, I like not taking it. I think it contributes to the depression. On the other hand, I'm wound so tight that it's probably not healthy.
I'm looking out the window at the calm water in the harbor, and (thinking past the pollution) I'd love to just float in it awhile... Bob like a cork, and let the living waters, and Devas take me where they will.
Been meaning to record my dreams. I get lazy. If I don't do it within a few hours of waking, the meat is gone, and all that's left is the aftertaste. I had a dream that would have made a freaky short story had I written it down. It's funny, cause after the dream was over, I was telling myself that that would have made a great short story, and how I could continue to write down the dreams that are short stories til they make up a book. It was all very clear. Then I woke up and forgot to write it down. I remember snippets as to why it was freaky, but not the "money shot" as it were.
Gas here is almost 3 bucks a gallon. And so it begins.