shortness of breath

What if I get arthiritis? I guess I can kiss my pianist career goodbye, right? Damn.

I haven't said much this year. I think it's a combination of not much to say and not much processed through my head to say anything anyway. I also think that the less I have to say, perhaps the more centered I'm becoming. That then scares me into thinking up something to say...because being in the middle of things isn't really where I want to be, or is it? Look. I have found something to talk and think about.

I like that I'm not the only neurotic person. My friends are too. Deciding whether or not to be friends with me; deciding on past relationships and whether they dare tread in their own footsteps; finding the balance of weight---and then finding a patience for wait; are there any answers at the bottom of that glass?; Southern hospitality really doesn't wash away all the hurt and anger inside; I wonder, does every star watch me when I dream of peeing on the passing cars?

(I bet they do)

j.r.me