Nigh

All the news is about sickness, illness, and disease.  Old people beware for you may not have the defenses you need to ward off these deathly microbes.  Pandemic.  The worst we've seen.  I wonder if I should quit drinking or drink more or keep it at the same level?  I won't be eating out.  I'm not a big believer in washing hands all the time thinking you need to build up immunities, but I'm considering it now.  I've already isolated myself from big crowds.  Now I need to drop my stress level ten notches.  That means tuning out a lot of things.  And maybe quit working toward photo immortality at such a pace.

"Humankind is killing itself," I hear people say, but I think that is not quite accurate in my case.  Other people are killing me.  I'm willing to save the planet, protect species, forego Monsanto chemicals, spend more on taxes to preserve a decent quality of life, etc.  Nope.  These other motherfuckers are killing me.

Or it could just be Prophecy.  Look to Revelations and Salvation.  The end is nigh.  I believe that is true, too.

I will have a story for you when I get the time to write it.  Last night I shot with a model whose tale delighted and terrified me.  I'm not kidding in the least.  You might try this for a preview, but that isn't that quarter of it.  I swear there was a time when I thought I knew the world, but I'm certain now that I never did.  People are capable of believing and doing absolutely anything.  I have proof.

So as I try to isolate myself even more than ever to protect myself against the apparent apocalypse for which I wish to be healthy when it arrives, there is less and less to watch on television.  I mean the Pay channels.  The "new art" of the great series that were abundant a year ago has been put off, delayed, or cancelled.  Shit, I will have to start reading more, and my eyes have gotten awfully bad now.  I can't read as quickly nor as long as when I was young.  I'll be left to sit and think, rocking to and fro, arms crossed, eyes gazing inward. . . .

But at least we are all going together.  As Frost says in one of my favorite poems,"The Pasture," "You come too."