it's been a strange week. anger coming at me and some synchronous strangeness involving appearing where I am needed, when I am needed. someone close is spinning out of control and it hurts my heart. much of this is kind of personal and I don't like to talk shit outside the 'classroom'.
my heart's desires seem galaxies away. brother and musiking cohorts do not call. last night I bought a bottle of Irish whiskey and put a good dent in it.
this morning on the way biking to work, a startled rabbit raced me for a ways. I could claim victory, but there was no clear winner. After all, my finish line was the end of a mop handle and his was the next tasty green morsel.
sleep continues to be difficult, vivid dreams that are somehow more reasonable than other dramas in the real life they reflect. perhaps aboriginal culture is calling.
listen:
Heartless Bastards - All This Time
Richard and Linda Thompson - Pour Down Like Silver
Smog - Knock Knock
view:
The Straight Story
write:
journal
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