Just doing a bit of early morning reading to jump start my day, and here is Dr. Hunter S. Thompson with some pearls of wisdom: “Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only real cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Las Vegas.”
April 11, 2005 at 8:00 am
The poem of the day from Poetry Daily feels pertinent:
They Had Torn Off My Face at the Office
They had torn off my face at the office.
The night that I finally noticed
that it was not growing back, I decided
to slit my wrists. Nothing ran out;
I was empty. Both of my hands fell off
shortly thereafter. Now at my job
they allow me to type with the stumps.
It pleases them to have helped me,
and I gain in speed and confidence.
Ted Kooser
Flying at Night: Poems 1965-1985
University of Pittsburgh Press