I've got tears in the morning

Not everyone will admit it, but fuck is one of the best words we have. You may scoff reflexively, you moral arbiter, but silence your thoughts for a moment and allow this next sentence to be the only occupant in your skull. Fuck is one of the best words we have because it contains the entire emotional spectrum. And also because it rides nicely on the tongue.There's a funny scene in The Wire in which McNulty and Bunk inspect a crime scene and have a conversation using only the word fuck. It's a downright vaudeville bit that not only proves my point but also masterly conveys detachment as a coping mechanism (Don't you just melt when I try to sound smart?).

I'm not sure how I got started on that, but fuck it, let's move on.

The organism heals itself. My knee is just about back to form and the neck and shoulder are close behind. I'll practice yoga tonight and see how it goes. I'm split between wanting to have an intense session and wanting to go gently with myself. If I'm wise I'll err towards the latter, and if I'm even wiser (think Obi-wan meets meets Kambei) I'll strive for the middle ground.

Here's a bit of breaking news: I'm almost in a band. I'll know for sure in the coming days, but it will probably happen. And once it does, I'll reveal more. Oh, how I tease and tease. What a fucking asshole!

I think about my father just about every day and it hurts just about every time. It's a process, I'll deal with it, but, fucking hell, I miss you, Dad.

The second season of The Walking Dead arrived yesterday just as I finished viewing the first season. I may watch an episode this evening, but I'm not quite sure I'm desirous of that level of intensity. Oh, we'll see, maybe one episode won't send me to the psych ward. I've been trying to convince Spira to watch the show, but she's having none of it. She freely admits to being a chicken baby. I can respect that, but my selfish desire to have someone to gossip about the show with keeps me campaigning."Just give it a chance", I tell her, "The story will suck you in". But she maintains her position. After watching a bunch of older episodes this past week, I think maybe she should stay clear of the show. All that gore and fear and gore and trauma and gore and crying and gore....How could I inflict that on a friend?

Just about through Slaughterhouse Five. It's definitely stranger than Bluebeard, to be sure, but I'm a strange guy, so it's up my alley. I just love good writers and Vonnegut's one of the best. I may try to squeeze in Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man in the coming days. This weekend, I'll be up in Nashua, NH with my mom shopping for a digital piano that will be a surprise gift for my nieces and I've asked her to stop off at the giant used bookstore that's in the area. I anticipate carrying some weight out of that place. Fuck yeah!

The night grows thicker and I should be about other business. Billy is near. I can feel his presence; it hangs like a foul odor. I'll proceed with caution.

Goodnight, you fucking lions.







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