Chapter one of the end in These titles mean nothing.

I had a burst of enlightenment this morning. I was in bed - probably as good a place as any for enlightenment - and the day had had a pretty good start without me. I’ve been spending a lot of time in bed - not necessarily at night but at any random time day or night. I sleep and read and write and ruminate. That’s what I do in bed.

During my whole life or maybe just during the last few decades, when I ruminate I want to write it down. I want to analyze, save, do something with my thoughts. I have no organization to this process. Unless I have my hands on a keyboard or a pen and notebook in hand, I don’t know how to save myself, my life, my being. The decision even where to do this salvation is often more than I can make. I do not have one such place to save myself.

I laugh at that. The not knowing where to write thing. I’ve had an online diary for more than twenty years, around twenty years. If I make this public some of you reading this will have known me for that long. Odd way to use the internet I supposed but it’s my way. There is a Willie Nelson lyric in there somewhere.

And since I’m on the internet I can find it.

When that ev’nin’ sun goes down
Yeah, you’ll find me hangin’ around
Because the night life
It ain’t no good life but it’s my life
Yeah, yeah, yeah listen to the blues
Listen to what they’re sayin’
Oh, please listen to the blues
Listen to the blues they’re playin’
Ah, ah, all of the people just like you and me
They’re all dreamin’ about their old used to be
Because the night life
It ain’t no good life but it’s my life
They tell me life’s an empty scene
An avenue of broken dreams
Because the night life
It ain’t no good life but it’s my life

I suppose my life’s been ‘an avenue of broken dreams ‘as much as anyone else’s.

Oddly I find comfort in the fact that Willie Nelson is still alive. He’s the only one of my Honky tonk heros to still be moving on this earth. Maybe not for long, but he’s here now.

The phone just rang. The $107 a month phone on the wall rang. It was my son in the cities. He had texted my son here that he would call around noon today. But today is winter warm and wet and my phone on the wall doesn’t work in wet weather. It has an immense buzz in it and I can’t hear and the person on the other end of line can’t hear either. I said I’d talk loud and he said he’d call back later and so I’m back here.

I think maybe this is all I want to write right now. I’d like to come back and explain myself. I hope I do. Maybe later today, or just plain later.