Yes, yes, still awake.

.
.
Quite a long day, actually.  No, I didn't get to much.  Oppressed by my own flesh.  And yet, I am still awake.  There is hope, just in that.  To work I must sleep.  To sleep I must be awake and weary myself.  I have taken that latter step hopeful for the former reaction.  I keep my mind in the game, even if my body seems as if it might just time out.  I don't know, perhaps it is just weary.  Perhaps more.  Time tells all with no wiggle room.

A bit of entertainment, at my expense, through the art of another.  Oh now, quit with that.  Are any of you married?  And happily?  If you lost your wife, would you not carry bits of her with you?  Have ghost pains, even sensations you suspect arise from living out a part of her life that lives so long as you do?  Now if you lost more than her, but the memory, even a name, but then she came back to you somehow, would you not... be a bit different?  Aside from that, women speak well sometimes, just in general.  And they have areas they cover better than men can... so I let them.  Is it I who brush their rock'n'roll hair, or is it the other way around?


I am waiting, like everyone else.  Some moments, like these lately... tick-tock-tick...  If I think I will outlive many who are far younger, and many who think they... have it going.  I don't like it anymore than you like it.  Although there is no failure to communicate, is there doc?

Good night, I do believe.