thinning

Awaking exhausted, late to the station, too slackerly to scrawl a playlist, got mad at a fellow peon over stupid politics stuff, usually not a good idea to suggest to yours truly that she's betrayed her gender by refusing to vote for the incumbent, because let's set up the straw men and the absurd doomsaying that detracts from the actual issues at hand. I don't know why I bother engaging in conversation, it gets harder to do each day, to not feed the trolls, to stumble through meaningless small talk with the world around me, the dynamics of dealing with backstabbers and brownnosers and the theater of the absurd which is perpetual.

But there are silver linings, maybe, and there was an interlude of sitting in the shadow of the cathedral with the breeze cutting the heat, and the jazz music played in the chapel, the time here almost done for the day, so many times it's better to endure through than punk out too soon. And there's good tuneage to be had in a matter of days, and I can't help but wonder if I solo it to enough shows that it becomes regular, maybe it won't feel so bad going it alone.