January 13, 2003
Music from The Mission gives me permission to dissolve, awash in memories. So hard to write about this stuff, aware of the trick glasses I wear when viewing the past. Still questioning my sadness, probing for the anger, but can’t find it (yet?). Maybe that’s what happens with eupeptic types like me. We’re just not programmed to get that angry. Not that I don’t have regrets. But golly, life is full of pain and disappointment and things not working out as planned. Plus all the good stuff, of course. So why make such a big goddamn deal out of it?