Mountain road

A woman sat next to me on the train the other day and started doing a Rosary. At first, I thought she was voodoo. Then, I thought that there isn’t much difference.

My friend, Dave, came by this week and we talked about his father’s death (hit him quite hard) and Nancy’s death (steam-rolled me.) This, and all the flying I’ve been doing, and my insane work hours, my reckless nature in the ocean, and the chemical abuse of my body have me thinking about mortality. Not to mention the fact that I have a killer toothache. I’ve been reading a lot to help make sense of it all.

Maybe I should include more of the minutiae of daily life in my stupid blog/public diary. Maybe my entries wouldn't seem to be swaying madly and kicking up dirt on both shoulders of my self-built, cliff-hugging mountain road so much.

There is a man named CJ who shares a life with a woman who is a good friend of mine. He has cancer. Can we all wish him well? He's an incredibly cool person.