I'm not sure.
June 3rd, 1999

Unless I Don't
Well, you know, these things take time. My "getting" the fact, for example, that whatever flavor of grut I have at the moment tells me about its arrivals and departures and that it is not ready to leave yet. Still, I'm better than I was yesterday and I thought I'd write this and get to bed. And turn up the heat. The jaw, my self absorbed bore to death subject for the last two months, has taken second place. Which, as I was thinking about it last night, every leg muscle aching, may also mean that hidden under these grut swollen glands that my jaw has been mending. I realized I hadn't taken a pain pill, for example.

This has been happening more and more often and I've gotten to the point that I don't even think about it. I was lying there, thinking about aching muscles and better behaved teeth when I sat up (dumb shit!), realizing things that fight tooth aches can probably whip leg muscles in a minute. It did and I slept (better). The aching muscles got me up again at 4:00, but a bath, another pill and it was 6:00. High living on the wrong side of a not well known bridge. But enough, other things have happened which must be addressed.

There are things you do for sport, there are things you do for fun, there are things you do at risk of life. Two other journalers (they would call themselves journallers with two "l"'s, an indication of traditional values and behavior, I suspect) have driven deep into the American desert to replace the dangling handset of a phone gone dead and reinstate communications to a booth in the middle of nowhere for no stated reason. This is serious.

There are two reasons men go into the desert: One, to find the face of God and take their chances in His presence. The other, to race madly in a red car with no top in pursuit of the American Dream. Both of which have been chronicled fully in the Holy texts. One must be solemn, one must be respectful and one must watch. To see if they fuck up.

I am not well right now and I think I must scan something quickly for the banner and go to bed, but come the weekend (when I hope to be well or well enough to write) I shall write at length (perhaps as many as three or four paragraphs) on their chronicles. Unless I don't.


 
The banner photograph was taken sometime somewhere for no purpose. I don't even plead illness.

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