Weekend sleepy towns away from the coast are having a wonderful spike in weekday bumper-to-bumper numbers. I take the bus. I don’t have a care in the world as I learn How To Do Everything and listen to tall tales of late-night internet spaceships. The pitter-patter of the morning rain greets me as I slumber. Western Washington weather is going through its schizophrenic patterns. Donning wetsuits but enveloped in mid-afternoon warmth, I jaunt home, flipping the bird through WADOT’s twitter posts of fender-benders and ill-timed expressions of the mechanically ignorant. Hello. Please keep reading.
I am still trying out the new style. It’s growing on me. This is the 132nd blunt stabbing but only the 2nd public attempt. No, you do not want to see the dead corpses that gave rise to this digi-phoenix. The neo-spawn has been helping me with my attention problems in that I haven’t touched my new keyboard with any sense of purpose. That is if you consider the encouraging rant and ravings of a stunted 32-year-old regarding Jared Leto’s most recent personality acquisition purposeful, than by all means I’ve been living the good life.
Relations are good. Strained but good. Delved into a three-day forced binge of Daredevil. It seems so did most of the USA. The show is spectacularly gloomy and captures the post-college experience excellently. Not the crime-fighting but the idealistic self-confidence that comes with frayed ambition. That Old Boy-inspired hallways scene was incredible but that’s not what sucked me in. The neural pathways met at a nexus when *SPOILERS* Foggy had a nice coming to Jesus talk with Daredevil. Not his best friend, Matt, but actually the Daredevil. The rage, and it is undiluted and focussed wild boar rage, is combination of Frank Miller’s stint and Elektra’s vengeance (cameo’d through words, not sight. Apropo). Let’s just say that the mind has gone to places that Matt lives in. It’s not always clear that you’ve reached this personal hell but sometimes when one has just enough of a push over the cliff, the resistance gradually sluffs off the back. Been there…
And I won’t even get into the jumpstart that my religious outlooks have taken this week.
Transition: Therapy is going well. Again, I said relations are good and we’re find a way to move forward. I fear for the future.
If you have made it this far, I have written you a prescription and called your place of residence to warn of howlings at the midnight stars. Keep coming back for more. Or don’t. I’ll leave the light on.