I just finished my Miles Davis cat nap, which was, as all jazz naps are, spectacular, and will be proceeding to the shower. The rain will fall, I’m sure. I’ll be back to this, I’m sure.
And that I’m so squeaky clean, I’m pondering all the things that I have to do. There are many, but I don’t fear them. I don’t tremble at the incoming farce that is life. This is new, of course. Usually, and especially after a few drinks, I get all sad and scared and doubt fills every crevasse of my mind making me nothing besides unsure that I can do much of anything. This, as you may or may not know, is rather silly and almost orders on idiotic.
This life is nothing. It may be filled with suffering and loss and desire, but that doesn’t necessarily make it anything. At least those parts don’t. It is all just an illusion that we can craft to our specification, if we even have any. Sometimes it’s much more fun to just put your hands up and free fall through everything, watching the blurs wave as you speed past them. Amber and moments.
I may be giving up on all of that. When you do such a thing, you always question, or at least I do. But then again, I have this terribly nasty habit of questioning everything. What if? Right? You can put that to just about anything. What if I stop trying? What if I do try? What if I try to talk to this very nice and very cute girl that I just met? What if I actually become happy? What if?
I am going to keep this short. I’m rather hungry and like I said, I have many a thing to do. My residents expect good floor decorations and I’ll be damned if I don’t deliver. So for now, I bid thee farewell. We can always chit-chat if you’d like.