Threescore

I'd thought I'd write a little back about the moon. And that it would dovetail nicely with some Gene Wolfe talk I've been having with my roommate. But Verthandi's red...Mars, I think. No luck there.

The moon is full and will have waxed itself out tomorrow and all my hoped-for juxtapositions have fallen apart.

It's still beautiful.

Too much catharsis

I'm not getting any-I think my neighbor's hogging it all. Good for her.

Nothing on TV
Nothing to read
I think I'll slit my wrists
And watch them bleed

Note: this is not a cry for help. Blood's good as a metaphor, ends up all over here and in my daily life. But then I have cultivated a vocabulary steeped in creepy. Today, I had a conversation about elephant vampires. What else could elephant garlic possibly be good for?

So yeah, strong moods to be had in my head lately, and their vicissitudes (waiting all week for that word) have left me wondering again about my sanity...I draw a pretty clear distinction betwixt my feelings and my actions, and while the former leave me concerned, I been real proud of the latter lately. Positively ninjiferous (as opposed to ninjiferrous, which would be like an iron ninja. Dave and I just came to this conclusion. Let that be one big pane in your window on my world) and while my pride at that has not been occluded, it isn't seeming to help with the angst. Well, what are you gonna do but blog about it, I suppose.

Notes from the party-a woman, now catheterized, dancing with an adorable baby in the moonlight, music and joy in the background and a baby-eating grin on her face. Truer and purer happiness I've not seen in a long time, and that will be my touchstone for the night. Also, there were so many people on my bedspread that it still smells like ass...and dog. Gotta do something about that. Lots of antiques showed up, and they get points for that. Lots of guest stars too, recurring characters not seen for several seasons. It was sweeps at my house, I guess, and my promos seem to have brought me a larger audience. I got called on my pretensions to godhood by a stranger...there's a reason they call them that. Good for her though. And while the boy had a rough night, he came out all right in the end, and that by the grace of no less than six of my friends. Benevolent and kind are the people I know, and that in itself makes my heart sing. Here's to us all, and the axis about which we rotate. Not you, Josh.