So baked I can barely think at all. I was up all night last night because I had forgotten to renew my seroquel and was out. So now I feel all messed up, in addition to the gastric issues.
I keep coming back to that other idea we might have had, people getting together and putting together things that make more sense most of the time.
I so wish that comes out as something. Perhaps I should stop taking the statin. On the other hand, I am thinking of .... I guess all I have to do today is karate, which will be something of a test. People sit around and debate each other, come around and see each other again, and find some kind of sun shining around the corners, so it is good to be in the land of the living.
The typing of words one after another, none of them really making any sense. The ideas, characters, doctrine, nervousness, and thinking of K looking back at me from her bicycle, and looking into my eyes. “something inside you is feeling like I do, we’ve said all there is to say” and so it goes. Putting my day down in words seems like a thing I can do to make myself concrete during the day. Visions of J in the future (i hope) and all of that wonderfulness coming and going. A way to put things on party line and communicate somehow our line of being, of being calm in the short term, acting bored and breathing deeply during our moments of trial and other amenities.
I should go home and start reading Les Miserables again, or some other chapter of some book. Hard to say, and the dull day goes on, shielding myself from the crowds here in the coffee shop. So that is how it is, and we can hardly hope to do more.
Last Wednesday at Bombs some lame jazz group was playing and S came in and started dancing, nice hat on, and then we all got somewhere, piling our ideas over ideas and seeing the whole bleak length of days.
Nice weather today.