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“Well, I’m a mushroom-cloud-layin’ motherfucker, motherfucker! Every time my fingers touch brain, I’m Superfly T.N.T., I’m the Guns of the Navarone!” - Jules

Damnit. I really was hoping I was past this insomnia thing. I slept well the last few nights of the week because I took some OTC sleep aid (Target brand) even if later than I probably should have, but the weekend was more of the same… late nights. I have to fly early tomorrow and I’m not the least bit tired. My mind is racing with a myriad of thoughts… like how I love the Theme Time Radio Hour with Bob Dylan or how I can’t remember the vintage of Châteauneuf-du-Pape I liked so much a few years back. Randomness. I watched this ridiculous movie (well, most of it) while channel surfing and waiting for sleepytime. It was about these people stranded on some deserted island and how they interacted in the midst of their situation. Ironically, I thought of people I know if real life that are going through their own personal issues and how that affects the way they treat those around them… I wonder how much of my struggle over the last year was projected on those around me. It was never intended if any, but I can understand how difficult it is to keep things separated. The burden I carry is my own and there is no one at fault or that can change what has happened, so there is no reason to treat anyone in my life differently now even if I feel as if I’ve become another man.

“when I’m gone like yesterday
when I’m high like heaven
when I’m strong like music
cuz I’m slow like honey, and
heavy with mood” - Fiona Apple

After the movie rolled credits, I still was completely awake. I ate some leftover steak that I’d grilled on the patio earlier for dinner. Cooking for one is only slightly more difficult than shopping at the grocery store for one. They go hand in hand really. Umm… yeah. So, have you ever heard a tune that just stuck to you? You can’t get it out of our head until you give it its stage and let it speak. I impulse ordered a CD tonight because of that phenomenon. People that know me know I’m an aspiring impulse shopper anyway, but this was obscure… even my boy, Google, didn’t know much about the artist. It was like Googling an original song by the garage band in your neighborhood that keeps your dog barking at night. I’ll give you the full report when it arrives.

“i really like to ride the train
especially when i forget where i’m going
i really like the way it feels
the motion of the wheels” - Dan “the Automator” Nakamura a.k.a.  “Nathaniel Merriweather” from “Music to Make Love to Your Old Lady By” (you see what I mean… shit!)

In case you haven’t seen it… Google Maps has this cool new ‘drag and drop’ feature to modify your route. Really slick. That must be why their stock is $522 and I own none of it. I dig the company despite and how it owns success in a predominantly Machiavellian corporate America with fresh ideas and approaching old problems with a neopragmatic spin. Let them eat cake. I don’t know why that popped into my head. I’m not even remotely close to looking for or needing directions at nearly three-ish in the morning. It’s still cool.

The Secret
Many truths float through life never finding validation in breath,
but they’re true just the same and no closer to death.
Ageless and absolute are but a few,
But one stands out that I’d like to share with you.
Behind each man that knows success and prosperity,
is the love of a woman given freely and charitably.
Whether a mother’s son whose morals and actions tell true
the love that she gave him as he stumbled and grew,
or a passing acquaintance, a lover, or wife,
whose love keeps him warm amongst cold men and cold nights
these men that find the strength to persevere when most fail
and champion the mightiest when they seem weaker and frail
are the men that know greatness beyond me and perhaps you
these are the men who awaken to woman’s ”I love you.”

I never write anymore… anything. I mean, this rubbish about how I spent my weekend or what I ate for lunch may be real and offer incite to my gastronomic preferences, but it’s hardly worth the pixels on the screen. I used to write short stories and poetry. I used to express and share. It’s easier to be luke warm, bland, and gray than any other color in the spice cabinet. Do you think there is the possibilty that action does not exist? Perhaps there is only reaction… and everything that happens and everything we do is a direct result of some environmental or sociopsychological event… and we all feed off each other to exist if for just the ability to provide someone else with something for which to live their next (re)action. If that were true, there would be no blind, deaf, mutes in the world. Although grand in so many ways, I don’t think one can live on touch alone. Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. It must be late.

“you scream and you holler about my chevy impala
but the sweat is getting wet around the ring around your collar
but like a dream i’m flowing without no stopping
sweeter than a cherry pie with ready whip topping” - Mike D

I’ve had my eye on this for a while. I almost ordered it this week, but I didn’t want it to come while I was out of town and sit on the porch. The catch is, I’d need a sturdier tripod and head to support the glass. Not everyone can enjoy Tom’s success as a wildlife photographer, but I know for a fact that a lot of the imagery is not obtainable with reach. The voice of reason always nags at me. At the end of the day, it’s going to fall into the “toy” catagory like a mid-life-crisis sports car. Although I’ve actually licenses some of my photography this fiscal year, I’m far from moving the volume requisite of the title “Professional”.

Hrm. Yesh. I think I’ll take this opportunity to mindlessly surf the web until my eyes get heavy and I find my way to the big, lonely bed. Bon nuit.

“All I can do is be me, whoever that is.” - Bob Dylan