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It's late Thursday morning and I just woke up from a nap that began I don't remember when but there is a vague impression that it was around dawn, and I now have so little memory of yesterday that I had to read my most recent journal entry to find out if there even was a yesterday, and I was pretty close to not even remembering that there was a journal. It turns out that yesterday was a lot like the day before, except that a package came, and I brought it in and forgot it, and it's still sitting unopened. Two packages actually, the clock and the scale, and I have no idea if they even work or not, or are actually in there, so they might actually be Schrodinger's clock and scale, simply mis-sent to me by the disintegrating delivery system.
Also I didn't eat dinner again Wednesday, though I might have had a sandwich. The bright morning sunlight leaking around the blinds militates against my thinking too much about food, for which my fat ass should be grateful. I am drinking half a cup of orange juice, though, and do remember that there are donuts, one of which will soon pass my gullet, if nothing untoward happens. Does that make sense? Not to me, it doesn't. And my eyesight is so bad today that I'm not sure I've even typed letters on the page. I might be staring at the wall and banging my fingertips on the tabletop. Also I keep smelling cigar smoke since (yesterday I think?) and nobody around here smokes cigars, so either some part of my food supply is rotting or I'm having a very long stroke. I don't even care all that much which it is, I just wish it would stop.
The part of my brain that isn't dead yet is trying to get the rest of my brain on board with the idea that I ought to do something today, but the dead part of the brain is for some reason being unresponsive. As the mediator between the dead and (un?)dead brain parts, I'm thinking I'll just watch YouTube videos again, which is what I end up doing most days. At least that's what the ghost of my memory tells me. Or seems to me to be telling me, though I'm not sure I even believe in ghosts. I used to believe in memory, though, so maybe there's something to it. I have the feeling that watching YouTube videos is pleasant at least part of the time, so I might go and do that, and I might open those packages and perhaps even find out how much I weigh. It's not a smart scale, so it probably won't tell me if I'm having a stroke or not, but one can't have everything, can one? Seriously, can one? Because if one can then I've seriously got to think about getting a bigger place. Damn it! And just when I'd gotten used to having almost nothing. No rest for the wicked I guess.
Meanwhile, here's "Never Going to Give You Up" in the form of an organ fugue created by a guy named Giacomo Minazzi. I listen to it and pretend that someone cares enough about me to have unconventionally Rickrolled me. Hey, maybe it's the ghost of my memory that did it. Thanks, bud. It's one of those simple and stupid things that makes me imagine I might be happy.
Also I didn't eat dinner again Wednesday, though I might have had a sandwich. The bright morning sunlight leaking around the blinds militates against my thinking too much about food, for which my fat ass should be grateful. I am drinking half a cup of orange juice, though, and do remember that there are donuts, one of which will soon pass my gullet, if nothing untoward happens. Does that make sense? Not to me, it doesn't. And my eyesight is so bad today that I'm not sure I've even typed letters on the page. I might be staring at the wall and banging my fingertips on the tabletop. Also I keep smelling cigar smoke since (yesterday I think?) and nobody around here smokes cigars, so either some part of my food supply is rotting or I'm having a very long stroke. I don't even care all that much which it is, I just wish it would stop.
The part of my brain that isn't dead yet is trying to get the rest of my brain on board with the idea that I ought to do something today, but the dead part of the brain is for some reason being unresponsive. As the mediator between the dead and (un?)dead brain parts, I'm thinking I'll just watch YouTube videos again, which is what I end up doing most days. At least that's what the ghost of my memory tells me. Or seems to me to be telling me, though I'm not sure I even believe in ghosts. I used to believe in memory, though, so maybe there's something to it. I have the feeling that watching YouTube videos is pleasant at least part of the time, so I might go and do that, and I might open those packages and perhaps even find out how much I weigh. It's not a smart scale, so it probably won't tell me if I'm having a stroke or not, but one can't have everything, can one? Seriously, can one? Because if one can then I've seriously got to think about getting a bigger place. Damn it! And just when I'd gotten used to having almost nothing. No rest for the wicked I guess.
Meanwhile, here's "Never Going to Give You Up" in the form of an organ fugue created by a guy named Giacomo Minazzi. I listen to it and pretend that someone cares enough about me to have unconventionally Rickrolled me. Hey, maybe it's the ghost of my memory that did it. Thanks, bud. It's one of those simple and stupid things that makes me imagine I might be happy.
