I finished eating the remainder of a bag of potato chips to cap off my lunch. I nearly hate them as think they are greasy, tasteless abominations. I ate them as I was hungry and not in a mood to be any more decisive.
I am having an odd day and the body and mind are not operating as a unit.
Having intended to nearly end my facebook profile and all things connected to this blog on the weekend - I did it last night, not wanting to put off the difficult task of deleting a little over 1500 connections to people I never knew and have not gotten to know - no matter what the intentions were. For now I am okay to leave it with the people that are left there, people I actually know or have gotten to know through this blog - facebook brought me no readers, sold no books or so few that I was unable to notice. Not worth the extended effort that it took.
I feel the pain of losing another close friend though. A person that I have associated with for 12 years and knew intimately, personally - a bond established before either one of us owned a computer. He is not at deaths door but at the door of something which I have been unable to join him, uninvited I do not intrude.
Life is becoming increasingly isolated, medications have proven no assistance as my mind's mettle cannot be undone by such simple ingredients. The New Yorker's jokes have become stale and it's commentary mundane and repetitive. Altogether my connection to the outside world is through magazines, tired of them all - I am reaching out through the space interrupted, the space between.
Today has many famous birthdays, but we recall that today my brother-in-law would have turned 31. He is remembered nearly daily around here and his magnitude is greatly missed.