Here I am, awake again at Two in the Morning. I was tired early last evening, slept for a couple of hours, awoke about 10:30 and have been up ever since.
I’m drinking peppermint tea, watching for trains in Ashland, and hoping I fall asleep again soon. A freight is coming from somewhere, either the North or the South. I cannot discern the direction just yet.
We have two trains, converging in Ashland They’re not the longest freights I’ve seen, but they’re long enough and loud enough,
After watching a particularly explicit erotic dance to the tune of Body & Soul, sung, I think, by Billie Holiday, I’ve decided to end my avoidance of praying The Holy Rosary, by joining the priest and pilgrims at Lourdes. Via YouTube, I mean. Not that I think that dancer’s gestures and gyrations were particularly sinful. Sex just seems so oddly out of place in our world of politics and killing.
If making a baby is the last thing on your mind, why do you even bother? To have sex, I mean. I know, there are plenty of answers to that rhetorical question. Maybe some of you, young enough and in love with life enough , ought to bother to do precisely that, procreate. It will make more sense when you’re 70, believe me.
Rant over. Rosary begins Later.