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Tuesday, September 3, 2013


Mozart's entire Requiem Mass...complete with Communion in Latin.
15# of Lasagne....
in the Oven.
I even cleaned my own dishes
(how the Mighty have fallen!)
Bad Sneakers,Kid Charlemagne.
Southern Comfort,neat.
The recommendations of Dr. Smoke Nazi, forgotten.
My compromise with said Ankle Doctor, 1/2 pack, per day, postponed.
I'm almost afraid to ask how he feels about the Noble Weed....

I'm tired,
body and soul.
Texas Dems have returned to their Caves, and I'm left out here, on the field
All alone.
I rode the Wendy Wave as long as I could...
I burn out, after a while, too, I guess.
Especially when confronted with the local Apathy, and the ever present evidence of my Minority.

It's a large hill.

I have never felt this Singular.
....and that's something...because I've been Singular, all my Life.
A Visionary, too...and as cast aside as Cassandra...
Gift of Foresight, Curse of being Ignored.
No one calls, save Familia.
Inbox filled with shit I signed up for, no more.
I Brim with Erudition.
I overflow with Insight.
My River, however Broad and Deep,
Is Dammed
By Ignorance and Apathy
And the Dark Side.
How Masterful!
Their Coup!
How all-encompassing, their Colonisation!
Minds, overthrown!

I want to give up...
I want to shed the political, it seems so fucking
Integrity says,"No."

The hard fact that I have Offspring says,"No."

It's the least I can do,
for them.


Just noticed that there's a Mason on the Moon.
South of the Lacus Mortis(lake of death),
and to the North ofthe Lacus Somniorum(lake of dreams).
After many years of longing, I finally splurged, earlier this year, for a Moon Globe.
Included it in my long awaited Book Budget.
Priorities, and all...

Still have a ways to go....I keep adding to it!
The Feral Librarian, building my own Alexandria...
Tome by Tome.

Donations are, of course, gratefully accepted.


Birthdays always seem to lend themselves to introspection; these days...I am reminded of a book:
"All my friends are going to be strangers",Larry McMurtry...
How prescient it was.
Ennui, Angst, Longing.
These were all supposed to be the afflictions of the Young...
not those of middle age.
Yet, here I is.
Almost all of my friends are online, and unmet.
Even those few who are nearby keep me at the safe distance of Facebook.
I imagine that it is my terrible Erudition...
my aforementioned Breadth and Depth....
That keeps my phone and doorstep so quiet.

Of course, other folks have things to keep them busy.
And I am a Drunk....

Not near as often as before-times, but I still tend to fall pretty
hardly off the Wagon...
On occasion.


Walk softly!
For I am well into the Vinyl. well as the little sampler of Smirnoff.
6 little bottles of flavoured Vodka.
(I cannot recommend the Vanilla)
How many remember that if ya stomp,
It Skips?
My Library becomes a Temporal Bubble...
Here, it is 1971
(High Point of Western Civilisation)
Nag Champa,
The "Smell of Burning Leaves".
Ancient Music,
Brought forth on an equally Ancient Device.
"Every Picture Tells a Story"
"Who's Next?"
To what end?

Why do I collect and read Books,
that no one else will read?
Why do I cook Gourmet Meals,
That no one will eat?
Why hold forth on Myriad Things that no one else
cares about?
I'm 44, today...
But my Body is in its Mind, it's 90's, at least...
My Soul?

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