A pair of days like twenty-two years. The hours of sweat are three now about. As many things break as are set right. Daily has far less meaning yet somehow I get a full eight hours each night or what passes for night. The body doing its thing as the mind surfs mindlessly on.

Living by simple rules. Sitting is distraction and standing is productive. Keep saying it. Sitting now and that’s irony. So do what you must and then stand more.

Some of the store-bought burritos taste better than others and it’s hard to tell why.

The funk of the break is familiar but there is a lot less anxiousness surrounding it and that too is hard to understand, not that I mind it. Of course the frightful panic will return on its own schedule.

It is forbidden to begin a sentence with And. And it’s a rule I break often. I fling my ellipses around with abandon to the chagrin of those who think they know what writing is. Christ what a mess.

Am i feeling cantankerous crusty yes I am but there’s no sting in the salsa.

Tonight when I chase the dragon.
The water will change to cherry wine.
And the silver will turn to gold.
Time out of mind.