After a day staring at a blank computer screen and tapping my fingers next to the keyboard, I now realize I have entered that place again.
It’s not dark or light. It’s a breezy, gray place. When I try to look out of it, it’s like I’m looking through cheese cloth at a Buddy Holly 2002 Show. There’s little to see and what I can see smells sort of dead.
It must be some emotional self-preservation mechanism that I have no control over.
I realize that yesterday’s entry was a little heavy and I apologize for that. If you makes you feel any better, I have already stained my shirt with a Mr. Goodbar bar and a splash of Diet Coke. That’s reality, baby.
I’ve tried to write here and for my job about a dozen times today and failed miserably. The thing that usually comes the easiest for me is apparently off jamming with Buddy and the band.
I figure my writing ability will realize Buddy is dead and return some time tomorrow.
So, that’s that.