A quotation from Stewart Lee's latest episode:

"I don't have a problem with drugs in and of themselves, it's just it's not possible to buy drugs ethically. There's no fair-trade cocaine, is there? If you buy drugs you're connected to a supply network that links you to slave labor and violent death... And in that respect, drugs are the same as all Apple products."

At least I saw the fire...

As I wandered fruitlessly downtown I did catch glimpses of the fire, a massive burning building quietly and defiantly burning away ash by single red-glowing ash. The ashes glowed and wafted like dying aimless stars. Everyone in the crowd looked at the fire and took video/pictures with their cameras and laughed about the disaster, but I looked at the ashes coming over the roof of the adjacent building like troops meandering across the night field of an infinite battle.

On my way away from the fire I saw a rabbit come out of a bush and hop his way up the handicap ramp of a state building. He stopped midway up the ramp and I walked up next to him, trying to make eye contact. His black eyes noticed me a moment and then he moved on.

It was nice to be noticed. Especially by a creature void of pretense and unequivocally trustworthy.

Each passing phrase I overheard from the alcohol-laden waves of peoples' voices made me question whether or not attempting to document the current human condition is even a worthwhile endeavor. (not to sound as though I presume I would be capable of such an endeavor were the motivation to exist)

I've always been that pessimist I suppose, but there was a short period in my life when I knew someone who connected me to life in a way I'd never known. I guess I have to be appreciative of that, even though it feels a bit like having eaten from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and then being banished from the garden of eden.

Sigh.

Daytime gray rainstorms used to have a pleasant connotation.

A new vow:

I just went to CNN.com out of a force of habit, knowing full well that CNN is owned by an unscrupulous twat, and i saw this headline: "Who has the best butt in Prime Time TV?"

I will officially never go to CNN.com again because of this. It's the last straw.

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In other news, Barcelona's chances at winning the Spanish league were reignited after a great performance from them and a poor performance from their rivals whom they defeated over the weekend. Unfortunately, the progress and the victory were marred by a horrible injury to their goalkeeper Victor Valdes. He's been the team's goalkeeper for some 14 years and only recently announced that he would be leaving in summer to explore a new challenge. But he had a terrible knee injury today and it looks like his last season with the team has come to an abrupt end. I felt very sorry him, as after all he has done for the club he deserves a more successful and dignified exit than this. I would've certainly traded the victory for his safety if I could, as I'm sure many Barca would have.

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Also, I am tired but can't sleep. That is (one of) the worst feeling(s).

I went to the bar today to watch "El Clasico", which is the name given to the matches played between Real Madrid and FC Barcelona. I hadn't watched a soccer match at the bar since the Champions League final in 2012, which I watched at a bar on La Rambla in Barcelona, Spain.

It was a thrilling match that ended in success for my beloved Barcelona. The match was off to a cracking start when my favorite player Andres Iniesta scored the opening goal inside of 7 minutes. Messi assisted him and then went on to score a hat trick for himself, becoming both the top assister and the top goal scorer of all time in El Clasico in the process.

There was a girl at the bar wearing a Xavi shirt but unfortunately she was with a man and another couple. Both girls were cute, and I had to jealously wonder where these two guys (who weren't that well informed) met soccer-appreciative women...

As alone at a bar in Des Moines as I was in Barcelona.

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No matter how many times you white out the ink on a page, the letters covered remain what they are.

I miss uS.

In my dream last night we passed each other in a public setting and she gave me that look again. R had grown up from when I'd last seen her and she said hi to me. In the dream the simple word "Hi" was so sweet because it was more than I'd been allowed to hear in so many years.

I hate my dreams.

But how can you stop a brain from thinking?

Nothing is sacred.

Prince's new single is featuring Zooey Deschanel...

Fuck me.

God, I sent a dumb one last night.

Face palm.

I just watched the first part of Neil deGrasse Tyson's sequel to Carl Sagan's old series Cosmos.

It's supposed to be a scientifically enlightening journey through the history and potential future of our universe. But all I saw was images of a poorly animated outer space with no context or significance set to overly dramatic music that sounds like outtakes from the score to Jurassic Park. Not much substance.

Remember when science and knowledge was interesting enough to capture peoples' attention and imagination? Me neither.

But still, this histrionic faff masquerading as science and gilded in sub-Pixar animation is annoying.

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Also, the return of Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle has been fantastic thus far. I'm disappointed more Americans aren't familiar with his work and ashamed that I don't have good friends that I can share/discuss his work with. His witty intelligence and comprehension is an inspiration to me. "England" is almost definitely in my top 3 episodes.

I don't understand the need to share things of personal significance with others, but I certainly feel it.

As I've said many times before, an experience unshared is like half of an experience.

I called my nephew to say happy birthday. He turned 6. His mother told him that they'd forgotten to call on my birthday and so he sang happy birthday to me over the phone.

It's still strange to me that he has the same birthday as my father.

I told my mother I only remember 2 of my birthdays, though that isn't true because I remember 3.

The first one I remember because I was at a bowling alley with all of my friends and one of them grabbed a giant inflatable bowling pin that was filled with water and smashed it on the ground. The second one I remember because on the day of my birthday party my mother came into my room and told me that the therapist I had been seeing was dead.

The third one I remember but it's one of the worst memories I have and there's no point in sharing it.

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I'm going to be getting a fair amount of money back from my taxes. If she'd let me, I'd line the walkway of her home with thousands of roses just to see her smile. She would look really beautiful surrounded by a pool of flowers.

Then again, she'd look really beautiful surrounded by just about anything.

Sigh.

I was astonished by a headline on NPR.

It intimated that 2 newborns born with HIV have been treated successfully with a drug that has rid them of the virus.

That's really amazing news. If it's true, anyway.

I wish I could tell her all of the things I miss doing to her body. Sometimes it's all I can think about. It seemed to me that we were plugged in to each other and that electricity ran through our veins. My tongue and my hands feel lifeless against anyone else's skin.

And just as often I find myself wondering if it was ever real for her.

Sigh. What I wouldn't give to board the vessel of her body and confront her beautiful heart and her tender mind once more. I could see her eyes, the light in them like those gorgeous sky lanterns with their warm illumination. But they have floated away and when I think of what I was once able to feel and to see while exploring her magnificent body I get cold, like I'm floating in the ocean at midnight.

If only the memory of fire could keep you warm...

Trusting people can be depressing.

I'm still waiting on a phone call I was promised back in 2010.

Anyone who thinks chivalry is dead should blame it on the suicide of sincerity.

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A coworker of mine once said that her husband had the best taste in music of anyone she'd ever met. When she said it, with such affectionate certitude, it really made me think how fond and lovely a sentiment and I longed that a day might come when a fine and wonderful person might think the same simple pleasant thought of me.

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The last time my soul mate and I saw each other was by coincidence in a grocery store. I panicked, set my groceries down and fled. I pedaled furiously away on my bicycle. I'll never forget the look on her face, how small it made me feel. And it appears the yearning to create more pleasant memories with her will never fade either. I should be better at shutting up than I am.

As Beck would say, "Soy un perdedor."

And as I would say if I were Spanish, Falto a mi corazon.