Okay. I’m going to, in hopefully what is an act in preservation of decorum, put those three paragraphs with the other unpublished blogs of the past few days and try to just breath, and listen to South Park in the background (I finally had to turn off the Impeachment hearings.) No one needs to read my graphic fantasies about torturing to death certain and many figures in American politics. That’s not who I am. That’s not who I want to be. Bringing more darkness into the dark world of American politics at this moment in history is never going to lead us to the light. I will say that my personal idea of Hell would be to have to listen to Doug Collins for– No, no. Breathe.
At this point I just can’t think about it. It’s getting dangerous to my health. That doesn’t mean my activism is going to slow down. But just for tonight, on this day the House will presumably do what is right (in the presence of the vitriolic and histrionic protestations of those frat boy RWS’s (Racist White Southerners)—

Wait. No. Breathe.
The sun just went down. 17:29. Pretty chilly outside and I washed my silky Mossy Oak sheets and fuzzy blanket today.  I’ll take a hot shower after I finish the blog. I have a heating pad for the place where I had spine surgery when I got back from Iraq. You know my back is the way it is because of some shit-bag NCOs I was stationed with in Iraq. For their own amusement they actually had us moving rocks at Al Hillah (Babylon). I’m broken because of them. I wake up in pain every single day of my life because of those egoic—


I’ll go to bed early tonight and wake up tomorrow with a brighter outlook, I’m sure.
This health issue (I got something broke in my GI track, VA appointment Christmas Eve) likely has something to do with the mood too.  (Jesus, I’m becoming one of those old fuckers who complain about their health all the time!) And that holidays can be lonely for single folk whose parents have crossed over. I don’t want to avoid that feeling. I want to sit with it and feel it. Not wanting to sit with unpleasant feelings, especially with my history of a propensity toward self-medication (with everything from my wallet to my wee-wee), has been a problem in the past. We’ve got to feel all the feelings and experience all the experiences so we’ll finally be almost ready to move on to the next level. Have you read Andy Weir’s short story “The Egg?” Me neither. But I have watched this awesome short film based on it about 40 times (no hyperbole). Seen it? You’ll thank me if you watch.

In fact, don’t waste more time here inside the toxicity of my impeachment-soaked gray matter; go watch that movie. It’s only about twelve minutes long. Circle back with me tomorrow where I swear to write the blog about why I started the blog up again. I received some news lately that could prove to be such an incredible opportunity for my play, Lilac and Liquor, but it won’t happen if I let the opportunity pass. It may not happen even if I do everything I can but I have to try and I need you to keep me accountable. It sure-to-shit not going to happen if I don’t take action.

Happy Impeachment Day. I’ll be spending the rest of it with a Red Baron Original Crust Supreme Bachelor pizza, Dole fruit punch, and South Park. And if you find yourself having a come-apart about politics–


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