Alex Chilton is dead

...and I don't feel so well, either.

I stopped writing haiku when I went through two awful days at work, and, as usual, when I stop doing something, it is much easier to keep not doing it than to try and get started doing it again.

I'm at a low point, here. I don't understand what it is I'm doing. The experts say you have to focus on something, and do it better than anyone else-but I am constantly losing my energy and focus. I'm surrounded by an open issue of the Atlantic, a book of Dan Jenkins essays, and Martin Gilbert's The First World War. And I kind of want to read all of them, and I kind of just want to get into bed and pull the covers over my head.

If this is goodbye, I'm honored that you have spent any time here at all.

If it isn't, I'll be back when I figure out a reason to be back.

Or possibly not.

Tomorrow Never Knows.

Adulthood

...is when you realize that Metallica was only 2/3 right. When you realize that it really, truly doesn't matter what you want, and think, and believe, and desire, and long for.