Don't get this shit. It hurts. It hurts really badly. To steal a Cormac McCarthy title, this is "No Country for Old Men." Another day of drugs and music and bed. And silly t.v. Yesterday I thought I was kicking this. Today. . . not so much.
My luck has not been so good, I think. Retirement could have gone worse. I know that everything could always be worse. But damn. . . my luck has not been so good.
I was just beginning to do some things. Take ten steps back. I was to be shooting big 8x10 Polaroid film at the camera guy's place. I was starting to do o.k. with the ambrotypes.
"Please step away from the line."
When I read the Covid news now, it just pisses me off. It is all about people not getting it and not about people who have gotten it. I'm on the other team, now. God knows what is going on inside me.
Covid really fucks with your mind. I'd read that--anxiety, depression. Sometimes it lasts a long time. I've had terrible thoughts. I don't think the time of dying is going to be fun if this is any indication. The ultimate judge of your life may be you. I am not a very lenient judge.
Are there any do-overs?
Yesterday I was thinking about a fellow I know, a real strange fellow who hasn't had a girlfriend since I've known him. Maybe forty years. He is not attractive. He is very odd looking, in fact. But even odder is his personality. There seems something wrong with him. He's very inappropriate in public. He is a bit older than I. What I wondered, is a life devoid of love worse than one filled with many loves? I mean, he needs not think back on the failures and betrayals and the loss.
Who knows. Probably people who married out of high school, had children, raised them and stayed married into old age wonder what they missed on their deathbeds. Surely.
These are Covid thoughts. I can't recommend them.
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