Saturday, July 09, 2005
My lack of activity and the consequent surplus of contemplative time, over the last couple of days, has provided me with many ideas, thoughts, and musings which, I was all set to type. Here. Right this moment. I was going to discuss the G8 and the, in my opinion, egregious aims of the masses; the recent terrorist attacks in that Monopoly board town: London; and lastly, my residual relationship issues, my thoughts on why I’m holding so much hurt, and the reason why I don’t think I’ll be able to sustain anything meaningful, in that respect, with anybody ever again. I was all set to pour my heart out and then… I banged that toe (see previous post and its grizzly accompanying photographic evidence) on the damn leg of my damn desk chair. Now I have a spider repeatedly sinking its hungry fangs into my toe. Repetition. Pulsing pain. Unfortunately, my train of thought has been irrevocably broken and my urge to type must succumb to the cries of a toe that will not be ignored. Woe is me.
Posted by Don Quixote at 2:14 AM