Too Tired, But It Keeps me Going, for now

So, now we are playing House of Blues in March.  The 10th I believe.  I'm so mind weary, and maybe physically toasted that I have trouble keeping track of what I'm doing, but I fake it well.

Provided that I am not too much more tired by March, House of B ought to be an interesting experience.  They have maybe 400 stages or so, and different times.  I forget when we play but it was designed to be a good fit, time and people-wise.

This weekend and next we have real gigs, too.  I'm hoping to get a little more steam going here.  I hide out except for essential commitments because I may be less intact than I'd like.
You would not believe the entire behind-the-scenes story, and I have no wish to lay it out.

It'll be OK.  Nothing else to think or say about it.  I really wish I believed in a simple God who was a parent I could con, and that I'd go to the best of resorts when time expires.  I have difficulty with that. I do not have difficulty believing there is much more to life than meets the eye and that it is not an accident.  But I don't know what I can really accept beyond that.

The pain and pleasure see saw that some faiths promote makes no sense.  Let's say you have seven children.  Six are real trouble makers, so you beat the hell out of the one good kid, the innocent one, to make up for the crimes of the others.  How does that possibly help, and what kind of jerk are oy, in that case?

No, I buy many things, but that is the central aspect of things I can not believe.  I think the Church lied for their own gain.  Earliest followers were not on that bus.  They had little offshoot movements. The blood and guts, illogical and psychopathic justice school won out.

And now I worry that I can't buy it.  We're here, then we aren't.  Are we don't think we are.  That's cold, and maybe just how it is.