nothing to say.

Not a thing.  I thought I did, but I don't.  For a couple of minutes I really thought I had something, something interesting.  I didn't.  I was going to talk about books, and movies, and t.v. shows, and westerns in general.  Not real westerns.  Shows like justified; movies like True Grit; and books like Blood Meridian. I almost did.  The thoughts were there, but the words were not.

It's hard to find meaning in anything.  And maybe it's just dumb to look for it in the first place.  I'm usually pretty happy when I find it and I find I find it in the weirdest places.  I'm pretty sure I found it in a sitcom once or twice.  Never in facebook or twitter.  Not here.  Never found it at the bottom of a bottle.  I've taken a good hard look at the bottom of a few.  I caught a glimmer of it at the office once.  

Not in the company of others.  The search for meaning is a solitary pursuit.

Sometimes it's getting up in the morning, looking out the window, and saying fuck you to no one in particular.

Happy valentines day.

 

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