It was nice.
42, of course, is the answer to life, the universe and everything. The question is all wrong, yes, yes, we know that.
I thought I would have answers but I don't have any. I don't have any questions, either. Nor do I have any statements.
Now I am here and it's time to see what that's going to look like. I have my thoughts, but I don't know for sure how long they will last before they collapse on themselves. That tends to happen.
In the past several days I've had many things to think about, but at the moment I only have this, and it is ephemeral. Yet I shall let it go anyway.
I was going to write something about my music and what it means to me, but the more I get older the more I realize it's best to keep the things truly important to me to myself. That's why I don't write a public journal anymore, for instance.
I keep to myself a lot. This seems to be good for me. I'm not so sure humans are really supposed to be around each other very much. I think we do best when we keep things virtual. This is just the way I see it, I mean. I've not had much luck with relationships. Not just romantic ones. I mean all of them. I'm best when I don't let people know what's in my head.
And there's the problem, isn't it?
I want to say more, but there's no one really listening. If I bare my soul, someone will just use that against me. That's the lesson it's taken me 42 years to learn. Best to keep quiet, make other people happy, and take satisfaction from a universe that can be so beautiful.