YO rsp raps

I recently mentioned the concept of words, that they are merely a sytem of SYMBOLS that point to a feeling or other sensation, often inadequate and ambiguous (but its the best we got). Well that's where I'm at in regards to my feelings about my day to day routine. Satisfying, but only in some kind of twisted selfish way. Consistent, leading to deadly amounts of complacency. I have almost no stress, yet nothing to show for such low levels of stress. Clearly, lonliness is at play to some degree here, but that can't be more than half of the whole deal. Perhaps some newer anxiety, which is a fantastically ambiguous word in itself. Hell, I don't know where I'm going with this, so I'll stop, for now. Oh, another example of "words can't express" might be my overall feeling about xmas. I could call it guilt (for feeling detached), but that's not quite it; my current feeling of indifference to this celebration of commercialism... and even what amounts to harmful levels of stress in some, and they just take it. While I do not feel stressed, I do feel a bizarre combination of guilt, disgust, and nostalgia. Nostalgia is like like lime juice, "necessary in tiny amounts".

Apparently the "time published" is quite inaccurate here in bloggerville, I recently noticed that when looking at the previous times, especially for the first one.

Verse:

"y'all really gone and done it now
fancy art on my glacier bay toilet wow

looks like play-doh out the can for months
little man standing on it, hey (harmony)---he constantly grunts"

hey, go ahead and put a melody to those lyrics, and email me the song. It should probably be rapped.

(4 hours later)
Just got back from Marie's riptide lounge. Didn't yet hit the publish button.

Before that was Bucktown pub.

Before that was Lotties.

Fairly nice out this evening.

It will be a long day tomorrow (today).

so g'night.