51/66: Ticket to Rid

Long abed last night yet longing to return, I let the morning pass in daydreamed excess, not caring that the bed's unmade and my mind undone. Saturday I got to bed about six o'clock in the evening, and slept off and on until four this morning. There may have been dreams, or maybe waking fantasies, but inattentive as always, I don't remember much of it, yet don't regret the loss. I doubt I'll be making much use of anything my brain produces henceforth, so why cling to it? For that matter, why cling to the brain itself? At this point it's not much good for more than entertainment. It's not like a have a career ahead, or any great tasks to accomplish. As long as I can order groceries and remember to pay the bills and wipe my bum, I'm probably golden. Or at least brass. At this late date what more could I reasonably ask for? So I miss the world's trip in the handbasket, so what? I can get there on my own. I might as well be there already.


( Sunday Verse )