Nothing much to report, just that it's the middle of the month and some depression has set in to smooth out my year of self inflicted torture. But damn a guy can hope and dream right? So that I do and go on without much effort or finesse just keep on keeping on as it were without letting on too much or mostly none at all. It wouldn't be good if I did, so I'll just keep it to myself.
Goddammit, what ever happened to hopes and dreams? Where'd that shit get off to anyhow???
"Middle age gotcha boy, that's all...An' it aint' probably comin' back anyhow." said the old negro woman selling crab cakes on the pier, sweating it out in the hot, salty coastal Georgia sun with her crusted feet in flip flops, setting aside an old styro container full of crabs and all waiting for someone to revive her from the surf and sand induced catatonic state so as to maybe buy some crabs. Then everyone could all go home and enjoy the day somehow, somewhere and someway.
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