As it turns out, I am immortal but not immune to pain. What a fucking bummer. That's not what I signed on for. I started physical therapy yesterday and disappointed my therapist by mentioning that no matter how much I worked at getting better, I was going to die and my life would mean nothing, because that's what God wants, according to Roger Waters.
I have a couple of other unfinished posts about falling on my ass in the parking lot at a large semi-conductor manufacturer whose name you would laugh at in an instant that will eventually appear on this silly blog in the random way that life presents itself as we all stumble toward the bin edge.
I don't expect to be passing this way again with the same knowledge I abuse today, but don't count on it, particularly you believers. Belief is one of the few things that inspires in me something not quite climbing up the evolutionary ladder to contempt. Disdain is too weak. Compassion is a waste of time.
Belief is what people have to protect them against ideas and imagination.
I don't even believe in ideas or imagination.
I am healing, heeling, and refraining from heiling. Let's all climb about a repurposed Further without acknowledging the Fuhrer.
Jesus says: Get high.
You got to love a dude with a doober.