Tea from honey jars.
I knew it was only a matter of time. The numbers have been falling for a long time, so I must admit I am not at all surprised that it has come to this. The navel-gazing episodes, the occasional mumbo jumbo – I am sure they come across sounding trite and worn, and believe me – so am I, too. So am I.
A direct influence of the lack of happenings around me, I assume: my excitement is contained mostly in the fantasy novels I have been feverishly devouring of late, and never do they spill over to real life. Most unfortunate, this.
Do I not deserve better?
I must, however, wonder why I continue to fork out close to three hundred bucks annually just to keep this up and running. I cannot call this a waste, exactly, but obviously, the money could be put to good use in some other ways…
What does it mean when the one song that stood out the most in an album, has to be the epic 16-minute closer? Like in a sleepy train journey, with blurry landscapes of green and blue whizzing past, it is always the thought of getting closer, and eventually arriving, at a strange new destination that arouses one to action.