Self-medication might be a good place, but I'm staying away from that for a little bit. Its good to clean up every once in a while.

Then clean the cobwebs OUT by diving right in with a blotter of LSD for a life-preserver. Drive up to the mountains and wig right out. Then, maybe some X for a club, and top it off with bowls of some fine marijuana for all as a night cap. Perspective is essential.

Tongue-in-cheek I say this. There will come a time when the fucking around will be over, and the check will come due. I hope to have the balance in my account acceptable by then.

And balance is essential in life. Balance in all is the beginnings of wisdom.

I have been smoking too much lately. I have been smoking Dunhills a lot. They seem to impact my karma in unpredictible and strange ways. I buy a pack, torch a couple, and everything CHANGES. Weird, weird, weird. This may be a falacious(fellatious?) correlation, but is worthy of more investigation, due to the Fundamental Interconnectedness of Things(butterfly flaps its wings in the jungle...and theres rain instead of sunshine in Central Park, NY. You've heard of it...don't make me explain this... Awright, awright...butterfly flaps its wings in the jungle, disturbs some pollen off of a flower, which makes a rabbit sneeze, causing another to take flight and get snatched by a predator, which in turn startles a heard of wildebeast(or antelope or whatever...), whose dust and air disturbance adds power to a growing storm, which disturbs the overall weather pattern, and there is rain instead of sunshine in central park...why Central Park gets shit on, I Don't Know)

Anyway, smoking Dunhills just ships my karma 180 degrees everytime. And really, its difficult, if not impossible to read the lines of karma, its warp and woof, since it moves so fast and leaves terrible shadows, but I will try like hell to nail some of it down before this Gig is Over.

Ended up scoring a nightmarish gig last night due to the Dunhills, I believe, and if this is incorrect, it DEFINITELY played a part in the ruination of my music-making. Of that I have no doubt. IF I wouldn't of had them, THEN the woman who wanted one, wouldn't have hit me up for one, struck up a conversation with me, and had no desire to spontaneously join me onstage with horrible keyboarding skills and wretched vocals. She said she used to be English...which may have been a lie, 'cause then she'd've know what the fuck Dunhills are in the first place.

Horrible, horrible, horrible.

I need to quit smoking, but I love it so...fuck the surgeon general, the POPE should put out warnings on these muhfuckas.