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Turn on the TV, and it's shootings, and bombings, and heat, and rain, and earthquake-tsunami warnings, and flash flood alerts, and child molesters.
Did some laundry, washed some dishes, and read some comics (www.beyondtimecomics.com). Thought about beer, and God, and money; women, love, family and friends walzted through my brains, too.
I took a turn on the computer, and ended up screaming at the monitor and slamming the mouse--damn thing kept on freezing up and crashing. There was no love to the luddite.
Armstrong won, but I've got little done. A book's been read, some films watched, and more sleep has been had, but I'm just burnt out like a lightbulb on a Christmas tree. Time and money. Always the same bullshit, and it's always the same B.B. King Wanna Be Tune. Maybe I think too much, maybe I have lack of ambition, maybe it's lack of motivation to care. I've lost the fire, it seems. And it's not about running the race anymore. It's about just getting on the shoes and getting out there. Don't call me Lance.
Don't wanna go to work tomorrow. I spend more time during the week waiting for Friday, and the whole weekend fretting about the Monday morning alarm clock.
Been thinking about my Grandpa today. Thinking about friends who I've not called or written to in a long while. Because I suck. Thinking about me not sucking. Thinking about lack of money. Thinking about lack of being embraced by soft, sweet smelling arms. Thinking about the furry nigh-buddha-belly that I've been sporting for a while. Thought about beer.
Listened to some music, and turned it up loud. Realized that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. There is only the light that we bring to the darkness, and I need to crank it up a notch. Perhaps keep on digging upwards. Definitely digging upwards.
Flipped through some old memories--photos, yearbooks, journals. I lost a little bit of Anthony Soul somewhere. When did that happen? And did anyone else notice? And why did no one say anything? Did anyone care? Who knows, really. I've spun off a lot of time over the last 6 years. Lotta missed time. Only got another 40 years or so left.
Crap...must work on The List.
"There are twenty years to go,
And many friends I hope.
Though some may hold the rose some hold the rope.
And that's the end and that's the start of it.
That's the whole and that's the part of it.
That's the high and that's the heart of it.
That's the long and that's the short of it.
That's the best and that's the test in it.
That's the doubt, the doubt,
The trust in it.
That's the sight and that's the sound of it.
That's the gift and that's the trick in it.
You're the truth not I."--Placebo, "Twenty Years"
Did some laundry, washed some dishes, and read some comics (www.beyondtimecomics.com). Thought about beer, and God, and money; women, love, family and friends walzted through my brains, too.
I took a turn on the computer, and ended up screaming at the monitor and slamming the mouse--damn thing kept on freezing up and crashing. There was no love to the luddite.
Armstrong won, but I've got little done. A book's been read, some films watched, and more sleep has been had, but I'm just burnt out like a lightbulb on a Christmas tree. Time and money. Always the same bullshit, and it's always the same B.B. King Wanna Be Tune. Maybe I think too much, maybe I have lack of ambition, maybe it's lack of motivation to care. I've lost the fire, it seems. And it's not about running the race anymore. It's about just getting on the shoes and getting out there. Don't call me Lance.
Don't wanna go to work tomorrow. I spend more time during the week waiting for Friday, and the whole weekend fretting about the Monday morning alarm clock.
Been thinking about my Grandpa today. Thinking about friends who I've not called or written to in a long while. Because I suck. Thinking about me not sucking. Thinking about lack of money. Thinking about lack of being embraced by soft, sweet smelling arms. Thinking about the furry nigh-buddha-belly that I've been sporting for a while. Thought about beer.
Listened to some music, and turned it up loud. Realized that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. There is only the light that we bring to the darkness, and I need to crank it up a notch. Perhaps keep on digging upwards. Definitely digging upwards.
Flipped through some old memories--photos, yearbooks, journals. I lost a little bit of Anthony Soul somewhere. When did that happen? And did anyone else notice? And why did no one say anything? Did anyone care? Who knows, really. I've spun off a lot of time over the last 6 years. Lotta missed time. Only got another 40 years or so left.
Crap...must work on The List.
"There are twenty years to go,
And many friends I hope.
Though some may hold the rose some hold the rope.
And that's the end and that's the start of it.
That's the whole and that's the part of it.
That's the high and that's the heart of it.
That's the long and that's the short of it.
That's the best and that's the test in it.
That's the doubt, the doubt,
The trust in it.
That's the sight and that's the sound of it.
That's the gift and that's the trick in it.
You're the truth not I."--Placebo, "Twenty Years"
