It has become impossible for me to listen to music of any form without those tear glands getting fussy.

Phooey to-
the world
feelings
evolution
bad karma
music
rotten keyboards

Many nights have passed. Many nights with the length of long winters.
One. Then there was two. Then the third. Then somewhere, the count was lost.
Evidently, my mind isn't what it used to be.

I want to be the fly on his wall.
Or, maybe his back. I wouldn't have to travel so much then. He'd do that bit for me.

My space has been invaded. I wonder if I can call it my space if I haven't used it for long periods of time. These laws on property would let me know.

I begin to understand Kafkaesque concepts. I must learn to spell the world.

In other news, I read a book that promises to be fun, allow my face to become fertile ground and lie at regular intervals.

A little to the right. You'd think you would have learnt after the last time.
A little more. Yes.
A little, is all I said.
Get that aim right. Don't lose it now.
Shoot now. Quick.
YES, a little right, you fucking idiot.
Right into my chest, this time.

Those damn sayings always come to you at these moments.
If only practice did make them perfect. My only hand would have stayed intact.