Don't Worry Too Much (It'll Happen to You)

My mother had a very bad night on Tuesday.  I broke down.  By Wednesday late morning, I pulled myself together and fixed what I could.  There is more to be done today, but I am feeling I can deal.  Yesterday was my father's birthday, but I hadn't tine to remember.  I remembered this morning and felt guilty.  I'm falling apart inside and out.  A song I used to fall asleep to every night proclaimed "Time's the Revelator."  

Yea. 

I tried to watch "Sinners" last night.  It began with a simpleton's narrative about the devil and music, poorly written to appeal to morons, I thought, but I tried to stick with it.  Then, in the very first scene, the supernatural took over.  I don't need supernatural fictions to scare me.  Real life is more than enough.  Why people are fascinated by such things escapes my understanding, but it is a real popular genre as you all well know.  I got maybe five minutes into this most nominated Oscar movie before I checked out.  Let me know if it gets better.  I don't care, though.  I have other things to do.  

I did watch a number of YouTube videos on the Weimar Republic.  Some things surprised me.  The Neue Gallery in NYC is one of my favorite places.  If you haven't watched "Babylon Berlin," in the original German. . . well, maybe you've been watching horror movies.  

Or The Weather Channel.  If you like this stuff, keep voting Republican.  Climate change is just another liberal hoax.  

There is so much I need to do, and I have so little energy for it.  I dream of Magic Mountain, some retreat or asylum where the days recede unnoticed while you take gentle walks or sit in a rocker with a comforter in your lap.  But care is sterile and too expensive now, only for the very wealthy.  

I listened to music last night and thought about people's objections to A.I.  Amplifiers, then reverb and distortion peddles, then synthesizers, digital sounds, raves. . . none of those sounds human or natural.  A.I. music is just a further reach.  You'll see.  One day, that is all there will be.  Nobody but old drunks will go to bars to hear some tone deaf fool with a guitar and a mike playing Jimmy Buffet tunes.  

If you had just a minute to breathe
They granted you one final wish
Would you ask for something like another chance?
Or something similar to this?
Don't worry it's alright, it'll happen to you
As sure as your sorrows are joys

For those of you who missed 1971.