Strange, Silly, and Sauternes

My intent with the creation of another blog was to allow myself to post things that I would be comfortable sharing with the world, not just that small part of it with which I have become comfortable sharing here. But that hasn't quite happened. I'm writing things there that I should be writing here, and perhaps vice versa.

My schizophrenia may have kicked in. Or some other psychosis. Or perhaps old age, senility, or dementia of some form or another has set in earlier than expected.

None of my blogs are dependable sources of anything...humor, gloom, political rants, self-examination...there is nothing consistent about them. I don't want to be consistent...and that's always been my attitude about things.

It doesn't matter to me what readers think of what I write. I hope everyone understands what I mean by that.

When people read what I have written, they tend to see that my attitudes, beliefs, and emotions are subtle and malleable, everything is painted in indistinct shades of grey. I don't know how much clearer I can be about that; it's a plain as the nose on your face...either you get it or you don't, there's no middle ground.

I take great joy in retreating into the deepest recesses of my paralyzing depressive state. From there, I erupt into inconsolable laughter. And then I have a dessert wine to restore my sugary self.