Kind of Blue

Remember when I could tell a story?  Make an image?  Do something interesting?

Me neither.

I haven't shown a nude for an awfully long time.  That streak is now broken.

Streaks.  I was on a good one, then a bad one, then a good one, and then a terrible one.  I hope I'm back on a good one soon enough.  It has been awfully something.

I'm switching from whiskey to beer.  There is that.  I will drink strongly flavored beers that slow down consumption.  There are plenty of microbreweries making strange craft beers with extraordinary flavors.  Whiskey is not the thing to drink when you are drinking for many hours.  And I have been drinking for too many hours.  Barley water is just right for that.  It is a health restorative comparatively.  It is much better than not drinking.  Yes. . . beer.  I will be practically British soon enough.

But when will I be interesting?  That is hard to say.  It won't be for awhile, not until the factory stops kicking my ass, not until the end of the night job, and not until. . . oh, there is another thing, too. There always is.

That red wall is too much, but I have come to love it.  I wish I had many walls of many different colors.  That is what I wish among the many wishes I would make.

I have nothing else.  I'll leave you with a song.  "Kind of Blue."  Oh. . . how it all comes together.  I mean the picture really goes with that.  Except that it is red.