Staring through a rain streaked Starbucks' window that via the magic of Mac's Photo Booth app you can stare through also. Just finished rewriting Chapter 23 of Ghoul World. Earlier today in the morning got an X-ray of my ribs on the right side. Last week I lunged over the wooden arm of a chair to retrieve something I'd dropped and heard a crunching sound, followed by pain that has been with me for six or seven days. Since I'm on hormone treatments that make my bones likely to be brittle, my synaptic self directed me to talk to Doctor Sugarman about it. Thus the X-ray. Talk about old age mental lapses...I was going to relate something about an old age mental lapse in the recent past, and I forgot what it was while I was positioning the cursor to write about it.... Here's another lapse. Yesterday I received a SASE in the mail from a submission of poetry I made to Elysian Fields Quarterly, a baseball magazine. A message on the envelope reported it was not deliverable. Of course it wasn't deliverable. Elysian Fields went out of business in 2009.
These days I'm experiencing moments of sheer ecstasy that arrive out of nowhere, delivered by my synaptic self for my personal enjoyment. I say, "Keep them coming," hoping those words tickle my synaptic self into delivering the goods. Hey, is this an instance of free will or just the synatic self enjoying itself for the pleasure of my consciousness?
Aha! The sun just came out.
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