What does it mean to be human? Firstly, it means you ask questions like that. Introspective stuff. 

That's about it. 

Am I some kind of music? Are there walls around my existence that I cannot see? Who am I when I am asleep? 

Should I be hunting or gathering? Agriculture though, yeah?

There's a lot to think about. 

Donaldo's kids are getting baptised on Sunday. Been a long time since I've been to a church. There isn't going to be a whole Mass, just the dunking-in-water bit. Then afterwards, food. Should be nice to see everyone. Feel like most of us are vaccinated. Although, not against airborne super-AIDS. 

Note to self: go to hardware store and buy a rake. Maybe that will protect me from diseases...somehow.

Listening to Cliff Martinez's score for the movie Solaris. It's punching me in the guts of my emotions. I've listened to this album countless times. Made me want to learn to play the steel drums. Then I priced steel drums and decided this was just a passing fancy.

I feel everything in this soundtrack. There's an entire life in here.

Lots of lonely, thinking moments. 

And now, I think, I feel like digging. Literal digging. Grab a shovel and a pick, make a hole in the earth. 

I do have those poles to dig up so we can access the RV gate. That should keep me busy for a while. 

Failings. My mind turns to failings. Failing to be obsessed. It is bad when one thing becomes two. At the moment, I'm not obsessed with anything. I have many interests, but almost none I would be willing to pursue while suffering more than mild discomfort. 

And there's my paranoia about interesting things that require money. Like the fun things a person can do to their home. If they want to put a bunch of money into it. I would like solar panels, and Tesla batteries to store power, and an on-demand water heater, and super insulation, and lots of shade. I want a home that a Fremen wouldn't completely disdain. 

Lumber prices are skyrocketing at the moment. That will curb my desire to attempt to build anything elaborate. For now.

There was a lot of mist. Coconut-scented mist.

Also kept me nice and cool.

What am I feeling? Hope? It's like hope, mixed with stubborness, and pride, maybe a little spite. This drive to keep moving forward. The doubt is there, as it always is. An ember that cannot be snuffed out. Just keep it away from the oily rags of despair and the paint thinner of apathy.

I'm not hurting all the time. Which is nice. But of course, it damages my image. I've got an image to uphold, don't I? I hope not. Seems like a lot of work. 

I wonder what I would choose for a name if I could get a free name change. I'm happy with my last name. Has a z in it. Easy to yell. First name, though. Maybe something just awful. Like Peppleridge, or Hortimus. Gippens. Phlogiston. Bolligraf.

Something like that. 

It was quite a weekend. The twins and I went to see Godzilla vs Kong on Saturday, and Kelly and I went to Undertow on Friday. Also had lunch at my Mom's on Sunday. It was fun.

I'd call it a return to normalcy, but I wasn't this social before the pandemic. 

Enjoyable times. I feel a little drained. Probably the alcohol. I drink so rarely these days. 

Probably for the best. Sweep the mess under the rug, the porcelain and the blood.