Ach, for those about to blog...

Coffee buzz and red wine langour.

On the way home from dinner, in the car, rubbed my nail over where the callous goes on my middle finger.

It's like a memory stone. I rub it to remember. What I've done and should do.

Stupid tarot site said don't look for emotional commitments right now. It's all good. I can hang.

I'm single for longer than ever before in my adult life now. I'm handling it well, but there are parties and holiday distractions. Plus a host of bands I need to juggle.

Saw a dream delight the other night. Easy prey, too. But I have someone in my heart, so it's merely an exercise. Meaningless.

Simpleton horoscope said be careful what you do and don't do. Mixed signals, anyone?

It's hard to tell what he's thinking, if anything, about me.

I can't stop thinking about the book a friend loaned me recently: Masereel's woodcuts.

Disappointments in love {like Faulkner's "Candy, candy..."}

These frames depict his character being laughed at after having his heart broken. Humiliated. He clung to a feminine waist. Desperately, it seemed. She exited.

Disappointments in love

Don't wanna know them or feel them, though I suppose both make the next more understandable. Supposedly.

Please know, when I sing Berlin, it will be for you dear...

Here in Missouri City one more week and then gone. So fast. Back to the city life like things didn't pause for a second.

Nothing means anything when yr soul is hungry.

Wheels of the year grinding to a halt.

Days are growing longer already.

Even after everything, I feel less internal ennui. Perhaps my patience is finally growing and strengthening. Could it be that the fear and doubt of my early 20s is disappearing?

Hallelujah.

I also understand much more about how desperate people can become for various things. Money. Sex. Recognition. Fame. Attention.

Certain people have entered my life for a reason.