I woke up this morning with Hella Good stuck in my head. Dunh da dunh da dunh. Da Dun da Dunh. Foreshadowing. Gwen at 9am at the outset of a very, very long day with very little sleep is never good.

So my day is spent sucking smoke like oxygen into my tired, 80s singing lungs. I'm a juke-box hero, with stars in my eyes. And I am le tired. I have so much to write about and nothing to say. Just like those other thousands of bloggers, mumbling to ourselves. But my outlook on life right now is something similar. . .

We all stumble through life searching for meaning and truth and happiness and love and all things infinite, but only because we are aware of our own finite lives. Aware. Hell, scared. Some in denial. Some seek comfort as faith; an everlasting life in God. But each day sees us closer to this ultimate end. I usually consider myself lucky, in that I don't seek that same Methuselan goal. I want each day to be spent in a wonderment: an awe of life. To smile and laugh and play and sing and work - hard - at something that might make a difference. Well I sang today. And smoked a lot of cigarettes. And so I am discouraged and disheartened and a lot of other dis-'s and mis-'s ( like misadventured piteous overthrows ) and will have to just suck it up and in, and go back and do it again tomorrow. But I'm really not the type of person to do this for very long. So we'll see. We'll see. At least I don't live in 11th Century feudal Japan.