The Mind Is A Terrible Thing. . . .

Originally Posted Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Saturn is highly visible.  The Full Flower Moon approaches.  The nights are bright.  I barely sleep.  There is heat and humidity.  In the daytime, I'm worn.  Last night, waking at 3:30, I got up and walked outside.  I will live with the results today. 

Sounds ominous.  I just mean I'll be sleepy.  All the drama was contained inside my head.  Anxiety and paranoia.  The garden variety, I'd guess, for someone like me.  I was simply thinking back on life and then forward wishing I had a voice about which way to go.  It was as simple as that.  I was gripped again by The Fear. 

That, in case you are unaware, is different from The Misery. 

But that is silly, depressing talk.  What we want is a story or a humorous observation. 

Or a vacation. 

But not today.  I am stuck long days at the factory just now and through the end of the summer.  Just as most of your thoughts turn to summer fun, mine turn to the unending grind.  Perhaps that is what troubles my nightly sleep.  Whispers of drudgery and vile servitude.  Where are the nymphs?  That is what is truly needed, of course. . . some nymphs.  I need to do the Mambo Tango while drinking silly drinks on a white sandy beach.  I need to hear the tinkling laughter of thoughtless nymphettes. 

You just don't get that at the factory. 

It is time to take some time. . . but what keeps me?  Confession. . . I've become one ofthose people.  I worry about leaving (oh, shit, do I say this out loud?). . . the cat.  She is acting so strangely and only comes into the house to eat and drink.  Then she runs back out.  I know, I know.  Jeesh. 

I'm just another victim of my own mind.  It gets worse as I get older.  I believe the old saying, of course:  The mind is a terrible thing. . . .