Many rivers to cross, but I just can't seem to find my way home

Listening to St. Vincent and getting inspired. I can tell I'll be listening to this record for a while before I truly start plumbing its depths. A wellspring of creativity, this Annie Clark woman.

Man, I wish I was getting paid to make music. It's what I'm good at. Most everything else I do doesn't fit right. Music does. I wonder how many people know how dear it is to me.

So the Bruins lost in overtime. Fuck! There is no equivalent in sports to an overtime in game seven of the playoffs. It is truly a tense affair. I've gotten used to basketball OT's and, though, they're intense and great to watch, they do not compare to hockey's playoffs.

I wanted so much for the Bruins to win. They had the crowd on the verge of ecstasy. They were chanting WE WANT IT over and over in militant frenzy as if they were channeling a Nazi youth rally from days long ago.

Man, this St. Vincent record is so good. Even though I'm not Spira's favorite person right now, I hope she's heard this. I know her well, and I know she'd love it. As would a lot of people I know.

Speaking of people I know, I really miss my friends. And by friends, I mean the ones who are more like family to me, the ones I'm always comfortable with, no matter how much time has passed between visits. They know who they are, these brothers and sisters of mine, and they are my people.