Citizen 1,235,824

There are few singers I feel in tune with when I go and make whatever it is I do in my underground music. But, I make music in order to feel alive, and that's all that matters.  But, I'm inspired by so many people who have had the courage to put it out there. Some of them didn't make it, like Ian Curtis. He killed himself in 1980, I think. I'm off work so I'm not going to fact-check.  Tonight, I needed music to help me through the last moments of my work. I needed something that made me feel alive, and the Joy Division songs put together to support Ian Curtis' expression was exactly what I needed.  I don't know why he killed himself. I'm sad that he did. The songs he recorded with are an incredible capturing of a time and place and they are universal in that regard. The way he sang gives  me hope that there are others out there like me. And in a time of loneliness, isn't that what we want?

In five days, I'll  know for sure if I've managed to run the Charlottesville  Ten Miler again. I'm not looking forward to it because this has not been a stellar year for running. Or fitness of any kind. I'm back at the weight I was at in December 2008 when my life changed. I spent 2009 and 2010 exercising as much as I could. My work duties had not yet expanded to where they are now, so I was both motivated to run and I had the time. I've not run since last Monday. I was going to go today, but I ended up with too many appointments which allows me to make yet another excuse. I'm sitting at my desk when I should be out there.  I remember when I was at the peak of my fitness, in the middle of 2010, that I was convinced I would never again let myself get out of shape. I swore I would stay fit, swore I would stay healthy. But here I am at just under 200 pounds again, with no real strategy for how I'm going to get back to 170.  Yet, I'm st

I'm certain that if I think hard enough I can look back in time at all the other nights I have stood in this spot. Ten years ago it wasn't like this, but I don't always remember now what was here and what wasn't. I'm standing looking towards the front door, looking down an empty bar with 65 minutes left until close. I'm going to coast and collect the money for looking after the handful of people who are in here. I've had fantasies about buying this place, and that's the only way it could work. I feel like I am in the middle of a space where there has been so much experience, and there are so many experiences waiting to happen. I'm aware of a timeline that could be created should I decide to go forth into the direction that makes that happen. But, I can't make that choice. That decision can't be decided, not now at least. This is a time in which I'm here, listening to conversations while reading a lawsuit and wondering if I could