You ever get the feeling that time, that arbitrary, ephemeral concept just sort of exists to piss us the fuck off?
I mean honestly, if it weren’t for time I’d be happily ensconced in a book without a worry in the work. Or perhaps I’d be scribbling words on a page, forging headlong and onward in the novel in my head. Instead I sit here, Stumbling and typing this trying to wind down from another exhausting day when I could be happily sleeping next to the woman of my dreams…
Actually ya know what… fuck you lot. I’m going to bed. This post can wait.
(But in the interim…. The Trailer for “The Men Who Stare At Goats” is good. Watch it.)