Title: "A Journey Beyond the Veil: An Unconventional Elysium Odyssey"

There is no time it is all gone and god forbid that time suddenly appeared from the ether I would look at it, daydream how I might use it to change the world or change a life or change my sweatpants since I work from home and then a few hours later realize I'm not even wearing pants. My mother told me that the older you get, the faster time passes, and lately all I can think is BUT YOU PROMISED. 

The title of this post was generated from ChatGPT from a prompt to write a blog post based on a post I had written in 2007 MY GOD THAT WAS HOW LONG AGO HOW DO I STILL FEEL THAT?!? Artificial intelligence decided to write, "She put me off my path, and now the only way back is to drink my way again up the hill, stumbling into the passersby. As I walked through the afterlife, I could hear her walking parallel in the understory. Occasionally, I'd stumble, and there she'd be, sweetly watching over me."

SOOO maybe I'm going to avoid AI for awhile, I'm sure it's not listening. I'm in such a weird headspace now. Most of my dreams now are retrospective and not forward thinking. Most of my dreams the last few weeks are also heavily influenced by my decision to experiment with amanita muscaria, making a tea that has had the effect of calming my humors and occasionally effing up my intestines, which is kind of funny. Most of my weeks have also been tempered by the fall rains, which I adore, and since I work from home, the soft voices and laughter of my family downstairs, whom I miss, even though I'm just a few steps away, sentimental as I am, and travel, which I used to loathe, but is now so central to my vocation. I have new nightmares now of waking 10 minutes before check out with 2 hours of unpacked luggage strewn throughout the hotel room. I leave for Baltimore in 8 hours, my god why am blogging???

It wasn't a terrible summer. We saw sunsets on the Puget Sound, and listened to our footfalls in the redwoods, and for the first time in ages nobody died. But I sensed that something changed, that something was missing, something I can't quite put my finger on, some mystery in need of solving, some journey requiring further exploration, some itch I cannot quite seem to scratch, and for that, I am still, hopelessly, helplessly grateful.


Dave2 said…
Why are any of us still blogging? Haven’t we heard that blogging is dead?
brando said…
There are dozens of us!

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