All Aboard!

I'm getting on the next street car to go to the plasma place, copy of "A Visit From The Goon Squad," by Jennifer Egan in hand; and I am feeling the dual nature of my mind quite strongly.

I don't know if I'm going to get a half bottle of red wine out of Walmart as soon as I have the 40 bucks on my plastic card; or if I'm then going to get a "tiny" hit of crack when I get off the bus on Rampart Street, feeling the buzz from having broken the rules of the bus company and sipped down half the bottle on the 45 minute ride back to town.

And then if I'm going to forget the world for about a half hour, and then later, try to placate the other side of my brain; the one that, earlier, decided that I'm not going to do any of that, perhaps by telling it that I at least got cat litter and food for Harold.

My true essence, which must play the arbiter of the duel, might settle upon a compromise, whereby I skip the wine and just get a sack of weed from the guy's who will pounce upon me as soon as I step off the bus on Rampart.
That way, I can return home and get lost in practicing the exercises out of the Chet Atkins Guitar Method book, the Charlie Byrd's Melodic Method For Guitar one, and the Building Right Hand Technique one. That part of my mind knows that little else puts the wind in the sails to send you out to busk than when you are playing "better." Even when stoned enough that you have trouble remembering the 4th chord of a 4 chord sequence, you are still building up "muscle memory;" one of those parts of the brain would say...

Then there is the part of the brain asking me: Why would you even write this kind of stuff to your blog?

Maybe because it's shadow banned again; visible only to subscribers...

I can hear the street car coming...