stumblestoprepeat

gah, i feel like i've barely written anything of value in the past six months. life keeps getting in the way, and by life i mean work because, well, shit, there's not a hell of a lot goin' on between work, weed, and the web. the three Ws. some of the other connections i was trying to foster have begun to slip. it's frustrating.

i had a train dream, again. they share a lot of similarities - the train is usually only one passenger car and a locomotive, the ride is always shockingly fast and takes us quite a long way, and my fellow riders are always people i've known in my life but presented at ages i never saw. schoolteachers as teenagers, school friends as older men and women than i am now. the ride is always enjoyable, scenic, and at the end i'm always in such a hurry i forget my bags. someone grabs my backpack, but the train inevitably pulls away with my camera still on board. "so be it," i think, and i turn to the surrounding wilderness. i usually find myself at some isolated train station in the woods, with mountains and rivers visible around. no roads, no villages, and it isn't long before i've set off in some random direction and forgotten all about my companions.

c'est la vie, c'est la vie, c'est la vie...

deteriorate

rather than deliberate self-destruction, i seem rather set on letting my body go to shit naturally, without doing much to stand in it's way. me being the clumsy type, there've been enough wounds, injuries, and accidents through the years that, without any of them being particularly major (by my standards), their combined effects are starting to make themselves felt, particularly in the winter. hands, knees, teeth, and eyes, all slowly deteriorating. my writing and cooking days are numbered, as are my days of walking miles back and forth across the city to get to work, and i imagine photography won't be as enjoyable when i can barely see...

c'est la vie. all things are temporary, everything withers and dies. this is not meant to be depressing, or defeatist; it's simple truth. perhaps it feels only right to view and interact with a dying world/culture/civilization via a deteriorating medium.