Quarter after nine. Raj drives a fancy white sports car. I saw it in the parking lot. Cathy walked in while he was ringing me up for 11 bucks. She keeps her mask on at all times. The whole thing with the pandemic is an experiment in conformity. To what extent can they make us all the same? Already the answer is that they can’t. And that is as it should be. Nature makes everyone different. Society tries to make us uniform. We end up being divided. I think the abstraction of society takes a leap of faith to accept. We refer to it as “they,” but no one knows who they are. It is only a ghost, a holistic phantom we take as a given. Really it is only us, you and me and the choices we make. There’s nothing but individuals… It’s a cloudless blue sky day. I took a look at my oak and maple as I approached the driveway: the oak is enormous and decked out in green leaves, hurling a challenge to the azure, photosynthesizing like crazy.
Quarter after ten. I used to be a great bass player. I’m still decent at it, but circumstances are not cooperating. It’s interesting: I once believed in a dark providence that made the way easier for me. This was merely the influence of grunge music. The summer sun reminds me of it. Eighteen years ago I felt both paranoid and invincible. I was always drunk, and my medication was not very good. Still I could be very insightful. Today is different and alike at the same time. Meeting Kate online changed me a lot. But I grew tired of empiricism and wanted to go deeper. She was tired of talking about anything… Tonight is the service gig. It could be fun. No news regarding a band practice this weekend. If I had to bet, I’d say we’re off for yet another week. The swallows in my chimney cheep and swoop, very happy that the sun is out. Whatever happens, all I have to do is not drink.