The old chocolate Polaroids are fading, even in light tight boxes. Some of them have barely an image left to view. I am scanning what is left of them, but this is the best I can do at this point. Like everything, going, going. . . .
My head is very bad. I wish I felt well. What is happening in there might ease up. I woke last night over and over and over with the most desperate thoughts. I am worn out this morning with it. I am in day five of isolation. I can't stand to watch or read the news. Last night, I watched YouTube for hours. Listened mostly. All the songs I like seem to make me sad.
I know I've posted this one before. I watched this and YouTube kept loading up more. Most of what I watched was Mandolin Orange performances. As the concerts and interviews moved forward in time, I watched these two lose their youthful vigor. Their smiles turned to grins. Their faces began to show the strain of things. But Sweet Jesus, Bob Dylan sure did write a song.
If you, my love, must think that-a-way
I'm sure your mind is roamin'
I'm sure your thoughts are not with me
But with the country to where you're goin'.
Yea, that one just about killed me. Later on, however, YouTube gave me this.
That one picked me up a bit.
Maybe I shouldn't listen to sad music before bed. Last night was terrible, and I am having trouble shaking it this morning. And I've still got the aches and chills.
Another day alone.