I've had a tough day, and not easy.
In fact, quite monumentally difficult. How can I explain? It kinda feels as if I had a remarkably bountiful patch of Phalaris aquatica
ready for the harvest, and in the stealth of night some rascal ripped it up just for his own pleasure. And as if his mangy cur left a turd upon my doorstep (as someone's dog actually did last night). But there is always tomorrow, and I almost never have any problem with tomorrows, and I can even tolerate mongrels, up to a reasonable point. It's todays I generally find most challenging; but I think I do OK, under the circ's. I do bloody well, if truth be known. I do OK. I work very hard and almost always rest easy. Insomnia is not for me, but for others, and I feel for them. It must be awful.
For a long time I've considered that those who sleep easy must either have good consciences, or bad consciences. (Silly, really.) For all my many faults, I like to think I'm of the former variety. Let others be the judges.
I hope you sleep well, too. Until tomorrow, or whenever it might be, bright blessings from Wilson's Almanac http://www.wilsonsalmanac.com/
and your almanackist, Pip.
Categories: happiness, entheogen