recoveringmale

I am obsessively listening to the orginal cast recording of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. The weather is wonderfully gloomy today. My eyes are thankful for fresh contacts. Reading my friend Jeff's journal is inspiring me to get off my lazy ass. Too often I've read it and simply admired him, and lived vicariously through his unwavering and determined pursuit of his dreams, however crazy or stupid they might be. Adventure after adventure, he goes and goes and goes. Riding his bike from San Francisco to Maine. I wish I had half the amount of drive he possessed. I rationalize that it is too late, that I've wasted too much time. My political apathy has gone on so long that I feel I can't make a difference anymore. I didn't get into that comic until the movie came out, I can't like it now... All my wasted time and ignorance lingers over me. It's too late to start a life you can be happy with. Blah blah blah. I don't want to be this anymore.
So I am going to make a few necessary phone calls, perhaps pay a bill or two, and put my sketchbook and journal in my bag, pick up book 4 from Preacher, and head out into the cold.