Sometimes I go on these massively long absences, I just get writers block or i just don't feel like screwing around with the blog. I guess it is high time I came back and laid a big turd on these pages.
I have a ton of catching up to do...first off, I never finished my top 100 albums, just left it hanging so I will get back on that post haste. Secondly, yet another base ball season is winding away and I have not made the least bit of effort to attend a game...of any sort. I seriously doubt I'll go to Citi this year, unless it's to catch Matt Harvey pitch.
The above is all frivolous chatter, feeling better on better days. Right now I am so completely immersed in depression I feel like my hand is grasping a sand rope. Numbness, no feeling at all except a giant pit in my stomach. The cause of all this cannot be revealed just yet, it's too personal and just too early to really get into it, if you want to know the truth.
What really kills me is that I spent years upon years on the road and was never above, selling my stuff, packing up and just hitting the highway. It all seems like a foggy memory it was so long ago and yet clear enough to still cling to the freedom and memory so that I can remind myself that I was, indeed, King of the World at one point in my life.
Now, because of my age and not so fantastic health I am stuck, my life savings depleted and very little energy to go even though I want to. I do not think I would survive very long out there at this point. But then again, that might be a good thing too. Just find a quiet place under a tree and let the world pass by. I would muster what strength I have left and face the world as a man with no regrets, no personal history and nothing to do but to travel the world with my eyes wide open and looking at the wonder.
Maybe I might even finally get myself totally familiar with my guitar, at long last and find my wind once again to toot my harmonica, maybe. Crossroads, anyone?