I like stuff.
I went to visit BS for a bit and played with Polaroid camera. She is Paranoid.
I am reading the Walden book as it appeared in “Upstream Color”. I forgotten, methinks, how much I enjoyed it when I was young. Was gonna tell a story about Rosie but the story was already told by Bon Scott. Nothing to report. I expect sympathy for the drop-off.
“Any sufficiently analyzed magic is indistinguishable from science” Niven’s Law redux? Also, She said, “There is an Indian in the Room.” I said, “You’re seeing pink Indians again?”
Filed under: Bipolar, Depression catatonia, Fiction, Memory loss, Novel, Photography
