fool that I was

is likely the fool that I am. Though I feel wise today. Oddly I am certain I will forget today.
A Thursday? AH, I had a rehearsal. At the church. The christian soldiers were marching marching, quietly to the bathrooms. No, that was on Sunday Sunday. Monday, that's a day. I often rehearse with a band. Great band really. "the creative opportunity." "the creative thing" is what people miss when they depart. I do the best I can. Honestly.
But I'm paranoid. Classic paranoid. That's why no posts for awhile. Paranoia is boring kids.
1. They are all out to get me.
2. They are all crazy.
3. The outcome is unpredictable and will not be to my liking.

I have a young Facebook (or is it FaceSpace?) friend whose little motto talks about kissing a lot.
And kissing well. An easy well in which to fall. I kissed this friend once, and I think it startled her. Her neck was kinda sweaty. Which I ordinarily like, but she's such a young thing, and I am not. She's a friend of friends. And I am not.

Friends. Yes. Always liked Quakers. For years, I have been one. It's the paranoia.
Understandable, given the shifting sands, waves of salty water, and onslaught of telephone messages requiring response. I tried really hard in about 1999, and again in 2002. I believed the outcome would be mainly good, acceptable, understandable. I might get some disease and die, but probably not, and I was strong and could handle shit. Fool that I was.