Where are we going? After all this, I mean. This superficial world of gleaming tinsel -- it borrows its glimmer from the ghastly lights of hell, yet we all gaze at it -- mesmerized. And when we do break away, its like an evil nightmare where we run in place -- trying to escape by way of the treadmill. Alas, how we squander our opportunities. All we have is the time that has been given us. Who knows when it ends? Maybe tomorrow. Yet what are we saying? Doing? Thinking? Feeling? How are we living? And for what? For our same old crusty core of nastiness isn't it. Squalling, conniving, demanding to be first and best in everything. Or trying to be our own hero and save ourselves with our almighty inventions -- nordic track and company. I can answer, and the answer cuts. But cutting is good for a rotten fruit. My Old Selfish -- may he die the death...again. I'm encouraged that Paul himself was a regular -- 365 times a year as I recall. I can't afford any slackage myself. The days are evil.   ¶ 1:26 AM