Feah Its Own Bad Self

What a brat I am in some ways of looking at it. There are mitigating circumstances I suppose. As much as I think our new dictator president is the enemy of my basic values and the freedom of the individual, I guess I am at the point where "Yes I can" should replace my feeling of "Oh sh..., I'm f....d". I know it is silly to bleep out my own expletives but I don't want to tinge tender children's outlook if they accidentally stumble on this. Maybe, if they are young enough not to be aware of the implication, the local adult will tell them it means "Oh shotguns, I'm fermented". I don't know. I figure some language should be kept kind of reserved. Like canned beans. In case of emergency.

Bobby was saying something about passion that hit a nerve and rang a bell. That triggered other thoughts about broken hearts, why, how, and what now.

All of what followed at this point has been deleted in one fell swoop. It was too maudlin and not productive. I think there is more sadness created by things not done than by action taken. I've not done too much serious damage. Except to myself. I suppose, in terms of what ifs, that constitutes a cost to society due to the withholding of more important contributions I could have made to my fellow ingrates. There's a bit of satisfaction in that.

Passion for life is worth cultivating when possible. I miss it. For a minute there in my adult life, it was white hot. That's a far cry from today's tepid existence. I'm not satisfied with that so I keep trying to get some fire burning. In a way, I've made progress. That lust for life was ice cold not so long ago. Little sparks flare up here and there. It must be annoying to others who know me. It's annoying to me. Oh well.

Who would have guessed there is a secret waterfall just off the dirt road to my cottage? I decided to hike/walk down to the bottom and back up today. What a scenic walk. On one of the curves up toward the top, I heard the sound. I followed it a short way off the road, and there it was in a bunch of huge boulders; a little waterfall rushing out of the rocks. Fair volume of water there, gpm-ly speaking.