Caught in the Pump

I will not begin with an empty blogger apology. I've been thinking and I've been not, so in the middle there hasn't been any writing here. I did jot down an actual journal entry, in an actual journal, one that used to belong, but not see actual use by my Grandmother. I have been to parks that I had never before been to.
Franklin Canyon Park is Stunning. It is hidden up above Beverly Hills, I am smitten with it. I want to go more often to sit by the pond and eat she she grocery food. I have been to the Park at Greystone Mansion, and reflected about wealth by a fountain.
Shitting Glitter played show number 100 in a room that sounds terrible. We played a new song and Amy swears no one clapped at all, she is always wrong when she speaks in absolutes, but some parts of it is right, maybe people clapped...Less... But I would notice if no one clapped at all.
It's been getting colder here, and people swear we have no winter. People from L.A. who swear we don't have winter don't realize that homes and cars a climate controlled. These people don't walk, the people don't wait for busses or rides.
I have a lot of ideas, and other people have been having my ideas also. I have been dealing with one stupid thing that I am tired of dealing with. I want to get a tattoo of a line in the sand. I would more than appreciate someone drawing a suitable symbol for a line in the sand. It must clearly resemble sand... Otherwise it may confuse it's purpose.
I've been feeling rather silly about being a big pig of an American. I deny my person very little. It's disgusting to me.
I have been proud of myself. I have been reading and thinking. I have been working on creation. We are almost done with our album and I can't imagine how the release of this energy is going to effect me and those I love.
I am grinding the organ.
Amy and I met a stranger, who as we got to know him became even more so. Animals need healed but people find themselves neglected. I am overcome with how I feel about what I'm feeling.
I have reveled, yet not danced as much as I would like.
I am grinding the organ.
My brother has taken on a second job, his labor of love is impressing me, making me nervous and leaving me feeling a bit wanting for my own impression of myself. I have done well to have him for direction and check.
All these things are going at once, and I'm happy about them all. Let us not make any mistakes about who has what lives to live, and about this talk I've indulged of destiny. There are any number of ways to regret a life, but they are out numbered and cornered by the beauty and stark immensity of the multiplied options in which we all have to live one.