Simple Solutions to Life's Perplexing Liffeyness: #1 "When I drank..."

When I drank, I used to like to look at art that made me angry.

Now that I don't drink, I like to look at art that makes me happy or that reveals a social consciousness---or does both.

Some of this is frivolity, but I valorize frivolity.

Better that froth than the other type.

Anger is rarely a response to this art, although sometimes it is a response to the conditions which made the "socially-responsible" art necessary.


When will we have lives that obviate the need for "socially-responsible" art?

That would be nice.


Dying at an accelerated pace makes everything more personal.


Maybe I am dying just as fast (or faster) but I am fooled.


I don't take things as personally.

Like really lame artistic movements or...India.


When I drank, I would take something like India personally.


I don't take fucked-up people personally anymore.


I worry about them and try to say something calming, then get away lol.


Probably how people handled me in the past.


I think about dying (mine and others') much more.


Because, let's face it, the reason most people drink is for the casual immortality.


You do sort of lose that when you stop drinking.


And you lose some of that dead man walking clairvoyance.

Thank Bog.


Duras was praising that right up to the point they told her most of her vital organs were in overtime.


But I suppose it is natural that she glamorized the means by which she set her tragedies to a form of music.


That old slut.

As she liked to refer to herself.


Fuck! My phone just rang.


End of train of thought. "Train of thought": soi-disant.


Someone must have been in tune with my oddity of the hour.