Saturday, February 3, 2001

 

10:17 p.m. Sorry for the late-night snooze-deprivation misery postings, of which this is most surely going to be another one of. But -- there's another heart in the photo for you, what do you think of that?

Maybe I could find a heart for each and every image this month -- maybe I could, indeed. That would be a goal, a quest, a reason to live! I'll consider it, I will.

But you know I'll merely crack under the pressure.

There's been entirely too much pressure, all of it self-administered. But that's what civilization is all about. Must keep up. Must keep on. Even the Venice Beach drummers, free spirits though they may be, must feel the pressure each day to get themselves down to the waterfront with their various tympanic devices and pound the sun into the sea. Otherwise, it might get stuck.

So, I feel lousy and I look lousy. Head is pounding, speaking of drumming. Infection is loose in the body and I think it might be time to stop feeding this cold and start starving this fever. I fear it's the only way I'm going to get my old self back.

And did I say old? I mean old. The idea that I'm in my fifties now has certainly entered my mind, but it's not truly sunk in yet. It was such a shock when it first happened a few years ago that I think I've got a post-traumatic thing going on here. I realize that's immature, and I appreciate the irony inherent, but there you go.

Maturity never did kick in. Don't know why that is.

Happy Saturday evening --hope you're not feeling mature either.