I awoke with that adrenaline spike that makes the heart beat fast and resps increase, like gettting pulled over for speeding when you're seventeen, or dodging a train at any age.

What a bad fucking feeling. Enough to make me want to do nothing wrong the rest of my life.

I was awakened by the phone. Shelia called. Again.

She wanted to meet for a drink last night. I demurred having to much to do at home. I'll see her this weekend. If its cold, I plan to sit by the fire, so I have plenty of time to fuck around and see what's what, and where she's at, mentally.

Although, there is this fact: when she left sat. morning, I off-handedly said,"Call me.", and she's called three times in four days, only getting one answer. hmmmmm. We were never this good of friends.

Space....gasp....space...huff...huff...gasp... the walls are closing in....

As much as I can be an asshole, I really am a sensitive guy. The sheer volume of my cynicisim belies my sensitivity.

Then I watched the movie 'Permanent Midnight' about Jerry Stahl, who wrote for 'Alf' in the eighties, among other shows. He was also a heroin/cocaine addict of titanic proportions(the mythological creatures, NOT the movie, which sucked balsac. NO girl would ever play her cards like that.)

It was delightful and disturbing.

And, by-the-way, Jeanine Garafallo is awesome...petite, sexy, smart...mmmmmmm.

So this has markedly affected my opinions of drug-use. Time to reign it in a bit.

And I've got a glimmer of a story, based on the myth of Orpheus, making this the second short I've ripped off from the Greeks. They won't care, they're dead anyway.

I'll post it in a couple of days. I still have to do some research.