Getting through this week is like carrying several of those x-ray pads around. It's all very heavy, man. Not without reason; there's a lot of heavy shit going down. And today John Lennon would've been 72 if he hadn't been murdered 32 years ago. 40 seems so very young to me now.
Tonight Steve West is hosting his and Freddy's radio show and playing a lot of Lennon music. Music is good when things are heavy. Even if it doesn't lighten things it somehow makes it all bearable.
When gravity rises exponentially I do 2 things- lose interest in just about everything and become cold and logical (known as "bitchy" when you're a girl). Today I did a lot of pretending to care about all the happy horseshit that makes up my Tuesday life, and for the most part pulled it off. My tongue's been sharpening since the weekend so today was an exercise in mouth-control. I think I'm actually fugueing here and there because there are empty spaces in my days. And I can't bear to read anything serious. I may throw everything aside after I finish Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes and not read at all for a while. Clearly my head is full and needs to de-frag.
Tomorrow's been cancelled. Not in the big sense, just in what I had lined up to do. That's fine by me. Food is already frozen for when that's needed, and I didn't want to sit through the meeting either. I'll just hack around and try to find the knob to turn the gravity down.
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