A random section of my driveway, unretouched.

I used to be able to do a kind of walking zen meditation, where I just took shit in through my eye holes and ear holes and nose holes and told my brain to sit back and shut the fuck up for a few minutes, please. And everything I took in was a marvel. Not any more, except for the briefest of moments, like the above. But of course, taking a picture somehow transforms the gold into lead anyway. It immediately becomes not a marvel, but data. Heisenberg. Not that Heisenberg.

These days I'm too busy for that shit. Except I'm not busy doing stuff, I'm busy churning stuff in my brain, the subject more often than not being the stuff I should be doing. I know, First World Problems. There you go, something else to churn about. My brain is a rich stew, eternally simmering, constan--well, not eternally, not at all, the consume by date is fast approaching. There's something else to be busy about. Too busy to, you know....       Gotta run.