I wrote this song

well, either nobody is reading, or nobody wants to weigh in on salt problems. I'm gonna post these rough song lyrics mainly so I don't forget 'em. Presumably my buddy Harv will fix 'em later. Or not.

I will be your one your only love
Swear it by the sun, the moon and the stars
High up above.
I think about destiny
That’s what you mean to me,
That’s what I feel,
‘Cause our love is real….

Hard to fall asleep at night it seems,
I hope you think of me and whisper
Baby, Sweet dreams.
The days pass so quickly.
Some healthy, some sickly,
It’s so hard to heal.
But our love is real.

(bridge)
Oh, some people counsel us,
Handing us answers that
Don’t fit the questions at all.
We pay them to tell us
The best way to sell us
The story of just how we fall,
But our love is real………

You can put your heart here in my hand.
Knowing it is safe,
For I am a trustworthy man.
And all of our trials and troubles
Will just seal the deal,
‘Cause our love is real.

Salt Intake

In modern pain management with opioids physical dependence is nearly universal. While opiates are essential in the treatment of acute pain, the benefit of this class of medication in chronic pain is not well proven.

Clearly, there are those who would not function well without opiate treatment; on the other hand, many states are noting significant increases in non-intentional deaths related to opiate use. High-quality, long-term studies are needed to better delineate the risks and benefits of chronic opiate use. [useless wikipedia article, damn]

Now, please note, we're not talking addicts here, merely chemically dependent people who accidentally hurt themselves sometimes. ADDICTS are people who are chemically dependent and oblivious to the harm they do themselves and others, or, perhaps, who ingest drugs (toxins) with no regard for health. (If you are so stupid you don't know the meth is hurting your teeth and bones, you're not an addict? maybe?)
There is a second important defining aspect of addiction which is this: the dose increases due to tolerance. Need more to achieve same....uh....effect.

I believe this latter piece of the def. is gonna have to go, because there are many highly habit-forming substances available in and out of pharmacies that do not breed a tolerance, yet they become utterly habitual.
And people ingest them with no regard for their own well-being nor that of others.
Take re-fried beans for example.

Bottom line, nobody knows crap about stuff. And not many people really know where to get it.

I have found that a small bag of potato chips ingested before bed improves my sleep (by reducing trips to the bathroom). Oh NO!! screams the nurse. That will raise your blood pressure! And she's right. Every time I get up at night to pee, my blood pressure elevates, not to mention my sleep is disrupted. Salt is bad for you. Only ingest salt if you are prepared to develop a tolerance. Or if it happens to improve the flavor of your broccoli.

Rules and hearts were made to be broken. If it feels good, do it. Then check carefully to see if you broke anything.

Scorpio

Our Maker made us all, in His Infinite Wisdom. But damn, did He actually make the scorpion? What was He Thinkin?
No, I know. God is all knowing without necessarily thinking, etc. etc. I love God, btw. God is Kewl.

But the scorpion! Crap. Again, I'm sure scorpions have their charm, but whenever I interact with one, it dies. Usually dies, or runs away without a tail. Because it is such a huge butt-brain!! It registers threat in every single interaction with other creatures, and then that tail starts goin' --- stingstingstingsting, missed, crap, stingstingsting. Scorpion = aggression.

So anyway, I met a fairly large brown scorpion guy today. He was trying to read the new New Yorker in the mailbox and I tried to grab it from him. Stingstingsting. I didn't realize the poor thing was there right away. He got me in my hairy belly (I wore no shirt, it's 95 out there), then on my right hand. Man, that smarts! thinks I. Then I squashed him swiftly using my right new balance shoe.

Back to God. Back to his Maker goes the little brown scorpion guy, having invested a little aggression and pain in my otherwise fairly passive and pleasant day.

I'm really glad God made me way bigger than the scorpion. Infinite wisdom. And he made me smaller than my car, so I fit in it! So Kewl.

cranium

Abe Lincoln, a badger (beaver?), and a funny looking guy. Yep, I took Rozerem, and I spent the night with those creatures.

Sometimes I'm not sure I'm asleep. When I realize that in order to understand a certain stance in a philosophical argument I need to first comprehend the special way a man with oily hair is bending exhaust pipes, then I know I'm asleep. When I realize that it's stupid to try to play Mastermind with myself (then why do they call it that?), and it was an excellent birthday present to me (from my daughter) because it requires me to reconnect with the human race, then I'm pretty sure I'm awake. And I go make camomile tea and read. When you think "I must be asleep now, because I am having dreamlike thoughts," you might not be asleep. And of course the thought "I am awake now" is as likely to be a sleeping thought as not. Descartes' worry, and mine. Really I'm just gettin tired of FIGHTING for sleep. It's exhausting, even when I win.

But back to Abe an 'em.... Here it's 3 dogs, but they could well be the Rozerem beasts. The big black one, so sad he's big and scary, hates to be a bother, but he's so big and in the way. Try not to hit him with your stick when he chases your bike -- he's just doing his job dimwit. Then the old shedding dying one (the badger/beaver), white hairs everywhere (look who's talking). Eagle eye. She actually scares me a little, since she kills a lot of her own protein. But she's nice enough when I trip over her when I sleepwalk. And then there's the little brown kidney shaped and sized little thing with the tiny cranium.
No mastermind he. Somebody (another daughter) told me he doesn't have a frontal lobe, but I think she's wrong. I mean, check the ears on this dude, yo! He sleeps with me, sometimes placing his extremely small butt against mine. I hope it's ok -- we're not married. Shit, we're different species!

On second thought, once I get deeper into the Alzheimers I should be able to play Mastermind with myself! Always a sliver lining.

birthdays are special

because you get older all of a sudden
like from a bad accident or disease

but you don't suddenly get smarter, and usually you don't suddenly die! on your birthday

maybe a comet will buzz by in the night sky

I'm so old now, I won't even look for it

emptinesst

I've been advised that emptiness, or this emptiness, may be a wonderful openness! (a Buddhist view, for instance, of it)
The house itself is not empty. It is full of .... things. Old dogs and watermelon wine.

Ringo alone appears to be doing well. The dead armadillo in the road was not even cold when I put it in the trash this morning. And IESI Austin removed the trash. Though the weeks of rain have left a scum in the can.

So what's empty? Not my heart. My heart is leaking. It leaks love and rage. Though my blood pressure seems to be normal.

I do have a confession to make. My side is leaking again too. Yuck. The price I pay for being a holy man.
Wholly full of .... emptiness! Infection, anger, and antabuse. Talk about fun. I'm impervious. (Though I admit playing music continues to be 98% rockin.)

When the lightest feather from the tiniest bird falls ever ever so gently into the empty container which held who I thought I was, I think the bottom will fall out. I am wrong, but right now, the bird droppings are way heavy and semi-solid.