Thinking about existentialism and it's implications and ramifications to my personal world here at my desk as I wonder whether or not to drink up some of my stash of fabulous Sclafani Bros. spaghetti sauce (gravy for us Italians) as my "dinner," or whether the two slices of German dark wheat with ketchup and Grey Poup swirled about would suffice. I did have two wraps of Omega-3s for lunch, so nutrient ingestion is cool for today, I guess.
I'm worried about the present. I'm worried about the future. I'm worried. Sorry, but I won't be specific here. Or there. Unless you qualify. Which you won't.
So we make our own world, our own reality, our own happiness. This is all well and good. Of course everyone should be aware of this phenomenon and take the appropriate actions, as delineated nicely in this article called How the Mind Affects Happiness, sent as "meds" by /t. Read it, it's very good. But, still... There is a void... I don't dig voids... I really don't dig voids... lots of experience with them... emptiness is not cool. Not even the vastness of outer space likes it, although they just found some regions of it... which is spooky shit. This void could be filled but only the future will reveal same. There is only one component that will fit the space. Otherwise it's a moot point. I hope it's alright and that it all works out, I don't want to think about the alternative.
Trying to immerse myself in work as has been advised to prevent my slippage into the quagmire of the unknown, which works reasonably well until I finish, and then must be re suppressed with a new project. Rough but do-able, I suppose.
There are three new gigs on the horizon... maybe four... [they're always on the horizon, aren't they?]... so that's good. I think it's time for a Black Sabbath CD.