A Journal of Sorts
"everybody's been in my face tellin' me I gotta make a change all I ever hear day and night is "you better hurry up and get a life" I need some direction 'cause the clock is tickin' away and all I can say is intuition tells me how to live my day intuition tells me when to walk away" ~ Natalie Umbrulio ~ the web is slow tonight... of course my meager 28.8 modem card and feeble laptop doesn't help at all... and this place now has cable modem, but without a BUS connection on this old laptop, I'm stuck with my dial-up connection and ancient modem... I'm leaning toward buying a new laptop... it might be wise to get the bills paid off first though (like find some checks and mail them out?... yeah, would be wise at that... one of these days, huh?)... speaking of sexual innocence, do you still have any? meanwhile, back in the journal... the story of a life remains shrouded in loneliness chased by the dark clouds of despair and harsh history, but that doesn't stop the river from flowing so why should it stop the words?... I mean, who needs depression, anyway... if I wanted to, I could cook up a great depression (pun intended, but relatively meaningless) fit for the medical history texts... no biological connections, scattered abuses, betrayals, and neglect all through this life... still, against all odds and logical humanism, I remain ready for more as positive as ever... more even... but I do have all the makings of a full fledged unabashed sociopath and if I wanted to fly, psychopath... somehow, I'd still rather take the cyclepath, even though I don't have a bike anymore... and I did mean laptop computer, by the way... you've got to either love me or words to be reading every day... either way, I wish so much that I could thank you properly... you give this writing life meaning by reading and you give so much more by letting me know you're out there... I wish I could make this more personal without sacrificing the wonder and security of it all (this world casts a profoundly long and dark shadow)... alas, we wouldn't want any evil geniuses, mad scientists, syphillic sociopaths, or physic psychopaths to get hold of your number... mine, they can have J sometimes I even scare myself... well, I used to... a little... ok, so actually I have always had a deep respect and I mean that most sincerely (and I'm sorta pink when I stay out of the sun and get the blood flowing)... in truth, I've always laughed at myself because I take myself so seriously and the more seriously I take something the more I must remind myself (or mock myself) that ego distorts everything because it's selfish so my bottom line must be (still is, somehow) the most positive step for everyone involved... if I can only figure out just what that is J meanwhile, back in the left bottom drawer... whatever happened to the entertainment?... I mean, now where I see the remnants of a cutting edge to the throat (whatever really happened to the electric razor, anyway?... not to mention the tapes my soul bled onto and the legacy of links to my eternal spirituality and the other irreplaceable stuff), there used to be gobs of it (entertainment, remember?) flowing through the babble... especially when I let rhymes flow... at least that's what the fan mail said... maybe it was the inspiration of writing to real life flesh and blood individuals rather than to imaginary ones... and in the end, maybe it was nothing more than survival... or something like that... meanwhile, if you really believe you think you truly understand all this... won'tcha please kindly come on over and start explaining it to me? J and then... |
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