The floor needs sweeping.  Clothes piled on the bed, will I fold them, will I move them to a chair, will I manage to put them away?  Clutter of life in a small room, piles of papers, cd accumalation, chords and plugs and old batteries...stuff of consequence with no value to a flea.  Putting off the disposal of things, sorting, moving, shifting...what a chore...and the empty space is always filled with more.

Meanwhile, what matters?  Guitars?  The one in the pic on my "default" is a 57 harmony, as old as me.  It followed me from Cambridge after years of separation. Originally I played it, when I was passing through Cambridge in the years when I was a homeless hobo troubador with no place to go back to...It came out of the closet of a gentleman who's home I crashed in, who inherited it from a furniture moving job.  I dunno, maybe it was 1982?  I didn't take it with me cause it wasn't mine when I hitched to San Francisco with E who had taken responsiblity for my pregnant homeless hapless self ..... oh the connections, the story so deep... this guitar so very special...  E, brought it back to me here  in California some time ago back in the 1990's.  E's another brilliant tale, what an angel hobo... passing though from time to time, in the nick of time. I ran into him again, after missing a 2nd bus on a bad public transit day, this past Friday, after seems like a year gone by...we meet again.  Ain't life grand?

I have been thinking, reoccurringly, about how much life one can live in 50 years.  It is as if 1,000,000 lifetimes have gone by.  I feel as though I have died and been reborn infinately.

I have been thinking, it comes up frequently, about how death is not an issue, it's moot, nothing there to fear

 it's life that is freaky and scary and important.  Now while we are alive, shine, do, create, bless, love, taste, give, heal, teach, touch, smell, look, see, feel, walk, talk, contribute, wake up. live, I'm alive!!! I'm alive!!!  Death pah!  Kay Sera Sera.