The Return of the Pumpkinhead President is a sequel movie I don’t want to live through again. His victory in November leaves me feeling defeated. Not suicidal, but ready to give up.
There is no choice but to give up being a nudist, though. As much as I was enjoying my late entry into the lifestyle I had longed for over a lifetime, my physical health simply makes it impossible anymore.
I also fear giving up writing. My hands don’t work properly while typing, and the creative flow is slowed by too many obstacles in the stream of consciousness. The river of ideas is slowly damning itself up. I only write two or three original blog posts each week. The rest of the time, I rely on what is already written.
I must also move back to Iowa soon. I need to get out of the big city to maintain my grip on life and be back in the place I think of as home before I die. It will mean leaving my wife behind to finish her teaching career, at least for a couple of years. She will rejoin me if I am still alive when she’s done… maybe.
I will have to part with at least some of my doll collection, and probably most of my personal library as well. I’m sure I have over a thousand books in the house here in Dallas. Some I have even not read yet, though less of those than the ones I’ve read twice.
My whole life has to be simplified as I work towards its ending.
Catch a Falling Star 