what condition my condition is in
Hello, folks. How y’all doing? Wussup? I’m in my room by myself, with college radio playing on my Amazon Echo. Wprb, Princeton. My favorite. I mean, I haven’t listened to everyone. But I’m consistently happy with them. So I sit here, in my armchair, with my laptop, bopping to the pop. I had an Afghan burrito for lunch. So good. I’m a happy camper. My voice intrudes. Fuck you, David. Anyway, my life would be perfect if I wasn’t mentally ill. If David left me the fuck alone. So it goes. The planet would be happier without all the plastic. And the wars in Ukraine, Syria, Sudan.. The oppression of Rohingya and the Uyghurs. God only knows what else. Poverty and disease and homelessness and the threat of nuclear disasters from N Korea, Iran, or whatever (Trump?). Not being able to breathe. Too hot, too cold, hurricanes, you name it. Say, zombie apocalypse. Or maybe just a super volcano. You know, like Yellowstone. But I’m God. I can stop all this shit. I have a problem. Nobody can. Shit happens. God can’t stop shit. Ha. Even God can’t do everything. You could call it delusional, then, if that’s what your God is. You can pray til the cows come home. You can prey on cows. None of it matters. Nuns matter. Every sperm is sacred. Oh, for god’s sake. Where am I going with this? In circles, apparently. Around the sun. I turn 52 this year. I don’t have a car to put Goodyear tires on. But it will be! My blog is humming along, with a growing audience. I hope to have a discounted membership at the YMCA, and measurable progress in fat loss and muscle gain. Maybe I’ll even be a speed-reader, and zip through all the books I wanna read. I wonder if I listen to too much music. Like, is it hindering my reading? Hm. Lyrics can be distracting. I guess it depends. Meditation is good, like yoga and stretching. Well, life goes on. My life is good. Getting saner, I think. It’s all good, all god, all me, and all nonsense. Haha.
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