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Friday, January 31, 2003
Ugh, haven't walked out the door and already I miss Con and Mr. B.
This blog will be on hold for the next week, as I am committing myself (not to an institution - I know what you're thinking) to seven days of meditation and rest. Really, a meditation retreat is just what the soul needs. It's always a shock to re-enter the matrix when it's over, but I shall persevere.
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Mr. B is naked in my bed.
Okay, listening to The Clash for three hours really re-alignes things in an interesting way. Did I say peace and love and let's all just get along? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah baby. Salvation Army. That's the ticket.
Shake-up, break up, break out, out run, out live, outrigger, grave digger, pull the trigger, blast off, cast off, change the f**king channel already!
Just at the edge of my awareness, is a thin maleable wall that I keep bumping up against. I know that if I get just the right amount of momentum, I'm going to pop right through it. But what exactly is on the other side, and why do I have the suspicion that once past that elusive boundry, there is no stepping back? Living in relativity is just so nuts.
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
Let's see . . . . . . just make it about a gazillion dollars, and everything will work out just fine. Thank you. I'll be checking the mail for that check.
Monday, January 27, 2003
I shall turn off the lights, claim my 16 oz. portion of triple purified spring water, and retreat to the bedroom, where Mr. B is waiting. Waiting and snoring. Naked. Like an octopus he will reach out all night, seeking my comfort, while dreaming of circles and red 13's.
Mr. B is naked and sleeping in my bed.
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