Nights of Memories and Retribution

 

Sometimes alone at night in bed, your head just wants to explode with details of your past life.  Last night was one of those.  It was one scene after another, little events of great significance remembered in vivid detail.  A brain works in microseconds.  My memories extended back to childhood and came at me like the history of art in the "Classical Gas" video from the 1960s (link).  It was too much.  I was up just before five.

There was a lot of disturbing shit in there.  I'll be a tired boy today.  

There have been a string of cloudy days without rain here.  There will be more.  Desultory weather, desultory mind.  

This photo was taken in Cuba a couple years ago.  Can't be sure what's going on here, but I don't think she's Cuban.  There were lots of moneyed LatinX tourists there.  How was I not going to try to photograph her, though?  It would have been impossible.  I should have asked that fellow to step out of the frame, however.  What's the harm in asking?

It is dark and I am blank.  The Impeachment Trial begins today.  Without direct evidence, not even I would convict Trump on this charge.  We all know he is responsible, but there have been no direct links provided yet.  Everyone is waiting for the prosecutors to show one.  I don't think they will.  But what do I know.  All my legal training has come from watching cable news shows.  I'm not sure I'm ready to take the Bar Exam.  

O.K.  This is a bit of torture for me today, as it surely is for you.  I'm going to hang up now until I have something to say.  Until then. . . .