Just life. in A small but passable life.

Three stages of life:

1. Birth

2. What the fuck is this?

3. Death

It was two years ago today that I landed in the desert for the first of four trips during the following year and a half. I didn’t know that when I returned from that first trip that Hardee’s would be gone. It was so strange that after sitting at that same table for the better part of four years that there was just no more. Strange.

Anyway, things are still the same here. I’m still just doing what I do. Which isn’t much of anything. Or too much of the same. Like always. Whatever.

It is rather amusing to watch clueless Dipshit Trump and his clueless minions blundering about fucking the order of the world up. It doesn’t even matter if it’s good or bad. Chaos can go either way. Chaos is chaos. And chaos can be amusing. Let’s just hope nuclear weapons are left out of the chaos. That could end up a little too chaotic.

I found some 3X5 index cards in the junk room next door. I’m in the process of using them to list EVERY SINGLE possession. I’m thinking that after everything is listed I can then work on whittling down the pile and crossing stuff off. I’m also pretty sure the task will never be completed, but it is nice to think that I’m actually doing something constructive.

One of my favorite people mentioned an Updike book of short stories- “The Afterlife”. I have it. I found it on the shelf and opened it. The date on the inside informed me that I had finished reading it on May 21, 1997. I put it on the pile beside my chair, for a re-read. It joins a Fritjof Capra book- “The Turning Point” and several other books with bookmarks in them.

There is no direction. Just, “What the fuck is this?”