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My, but I've been dreading this... the repeated, redundant repetitiveness of it all (hmmm... wonder if I can think of another word that says exactly the same thing? Don't get my Thesaurus working, y'all). Precisely the reason I've not written in days... I could pick an entry, at random, and the theme would be just like the one before it. This is not the reason I began this journal. Actually, I can't even remember what the motivation was... outside of putting this swirling headful of verbosity into better use than confusing those in the vicinity who haven't a clue of what I'm talking about. "Speakin' in tongues, that boy!" Oh, yeah... putting into writing the sporadic insane ideas and profane discoveries, those were the ideas, too. Instead, it's been about decay... my marriage, bank account, sobriety... interest in things in general. Not a very good incentive, is repetition. When was I last here? I'm not logged on, now, so I'm guessing... Sunday, when I was planning to skip work to get the peppers planted. Which I did... after spending the morning getting Miss Jane's Subie tagged, registered, stickered, insured... while she was at work. I actually got into the field at one PM, or so. Hot. Nice and hot. Stripped down to the shorts and workboots, driving a four-foot long, four-inch wide pipe into the rows... just the right size for planting. To the next plot... more like an e-Coli-ed marshland, digging my hands in pestilence to pull back the mulch cloth from last year. Just too funky for words... or the digestion. It was 6 PM, I called it quits... ...and went home to Pure Bullshit. I called out, "I'm Home." The response: "UH-huh. Out playing with your friends again? You don't have any appreciation for family!" Then, the shit hit the fan. For five hours. No quarter given, none taken. No resolution... no feeling. What. The. Fuck. See what I mean about redundancy? What may not be redundant is the living situation. A change is gonna come. |
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