Saturday

Another night has bled into day; this one deeper than usual. I haven't been to sleep at all. Not good, considering I'm supposed to have lunch with the Big Men's group today, and a date with Milton.

Anyway, I just posted a poem I wrote way back when I still had things to say, and decided to post some commentary along with it, since I'm sure that taken at face value it would probably upset a lot of readers. (Do I have a lot of readers?) After all the proofreading, corrections, etc; it took about 4 hours. Then, for some reason, I spent about another hour just reading the post over and over again. "Apocalypse" is really one of the most powerful things I've written, in my opinion.

Yesterday, I mowed the lawn; first mow of the year. It went ok with Tom's electric mower, but I hate pulling the cord around. I mowed his lawn once last year, and the grass was so thick, the engine kept dying. This time, I felt bad for mowing over the ant hills. Sure, scientists SAY they have no sense of pain, fear, humiliation...but since they aren't sure how we processes emotion, they can't say for sure. Those buggers work hard building their castles, and having them wiped out every few weeks is probably emotionally devastating...if they have emotions. On the other hand, it'd be inconvenient to try and mow around them. I guess I've just become more open to the possibility since Sunny's death. I keep thinking ever bug I squash could be him living out his Karma. But in Sunny's case, I guess he'd probably come back as something more dignified than an ant or spider or bee. I haven't killed anything else lately.