I’m trying not to be miserable today despite all the temporal and chronometric fuckery of the last 24 hours.  I’m trying, but I can’t say it’s working out that way.

At least half of all the Japanese poems I’ve read have been either directly about or at least tangentially related to the beauty and perfection of cherry blossoms.  I can’t stand the fucking things.  Maybe in Japan, with all that sea air constantly blowing the pollen away, it’s different, but here in Allergy Valley, cherry blossoms are shit.  And they all showed up yesterday.  Ka-bloom.  This may call for NyQuil™.

N.P.: “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction – Alternate Version” – Jerry Lee Lewis, Rory Gallagher