The Son of the last of a long line of thinkers. (delascabezas) wrote,
The Son of the last of a long line of thinkers.

those were times of roses... of poetry and prosin...

What drives us? Today is the kind of day that I feel like an inspiration abortion clinic. Ideas only change things when whispered in the right ears, or when they might make someone a buck.

Thanksgiving was decent. I was Thankful that I did not have to spend it with the fringe stresses of a family gathering, but, rather, enjoyed wine, companionship, and trivia.

Other than the brief away time, the long weekend was relaxing but uneventful for the most part. Last night was the season final of Carnivale, which convinced me I must once again resume my television hermitage. Fucking mass media.

If I can make it through December, then I can make it through anything. It is shaping up to be busier than the last three months combined, compounded by seasonal religious traditions.

When rats run through the maze, do you think all they think about is the cheese?

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