First, I want to say once again that I love Instagram. I really do. The degree to which I despise Facebook is the degree to which I love Instagram. And beyond.

People — total strangers — on Instagram are so kind. The same young man who has that page that quoted Neptune & Surf the other day, sent me a meditation download early this morning because I’d had a terrible night — mostly because of pain in my leg where I fell the other day, but also just stress. And this afternoon, I’m being interviewed on one of M. Christian’s podcasts, and we’ll mostly be talking about The Guitar Hero Goes Home.

And all the pain and lack of sleep and stress left me feeling remarkably brain dead. And not in the best shape for an interview.

So the guy (he’s very private so I won’t say too much about him), sent me this wonderful MP3 file to help me meditate and get in better mental shape for the interview. It meant so much to me, you know.  He is always so kind to me, and I’m easily old enough to be his grandmother (okay, well, maybe a really young, youthful, incredibly vibrant grandmother with a seriously bruised thigh…).

And we’ll probably never, ever even meet because he lives far, far away. In the Middle East, in a country where American Jews (by birth, anyway — I don’t practice it anymore) are not likely to ever travel to anymore. Ever. Such is politics.

Anyway, his constant kindness means a lot to me. Especially on this particular morning, which is the anniversary of my friend Paul’s death. 21 years ago today. I miss him so much. He was my best-est friend in the whole entire world, from age 17 on. He was always there for me, always had my back, never ever once fucked with my head or played any fucked up games with me.  And he was also the first in line to let me know when he thought I was going down a bad road, or making a bad decision, or being bitchy. He was always just totally honest with me.

And he was so fucking funny. I miss all of it, so much. There is no one in my life who has come close to taking his place.

When we first found out that he was dying, I began spiraling downward immediately and didn’t come out of it for years.  It took him 7 years to actually die. He deteriorated slowly. But I started in with bourbon immediately. Bourbon in my coffee in the morning, bourbon in the afternoon, cocktails at night. And I started smoking with a vengeance, too. And I hardly ate. And I lost a ton of weight, even though I wasn’t overweight when I started. But I only behaved that way when he wasn’t around. If he was around, I tried to act like I was totally brave, you know?

He lived in a beach house on Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina. And toward the end of his life, he and I walked along the beach one winter morning, and he wanted to make sure I was going to be okay when he was gone.

Of course, I lied. I wanted him to feel okay about dying. But I knew I was never going to be all right.

Well, I take care of myself. I survive. I go on. I create, etc., etc. But in all honesty, it has never been the same.

And this is not the frame of mind I want to be in before an interview you know?? I don’t want to go on record saying that life sucks…

So I am trying to get myself together here today.

Well. Blixa Bargeld released a video discussing his upcoming writing plans.  You can watch it on his web site. Or here:

And you can also support his many projects by being a contributing supporter. (€10 a month.)

Also, Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand File today, wherein he discusses catastrophe, suffering, the pandemic, creativity, life on Earth and trying to survive it. (I am greatly paraphrasing. You can read it for yourself here, though. It was quite sobering.)

Okay, so. I need to go over some extensive notes Peitor sent me from West Hollywood yesterday, as we get ever closer to resuming production/writing for Abstract Absurdity Productions. And after the interview for the podcast (it’s being pre-recorded — when it is available to download I will let you know!!), I will focus on trying to make some significant headway with “Novitiate.” (My new erotic short story, in progress.)

And I really, really hope I can salvage this weird, weird morning. (Plus, I am once again trying to come to terms with a decision I have to make — that is only going to break my own heart. But I feel like it’s the right thing to do.  But it is hard enough to keep the color in my world as it is. But onward…)

Okay. Have a really good Thursday, wherever you are and with whatever you might be grappling with out there in the world.  I leave you with the song that helped me survive yesterday. (I take it one day at a time, most days.) Even though it made me miss everybody who has passed away, including Tom Petty, it still helped. “Keeping Me Alive” (1982), from off of his posthumous An American Treasure album  (2018). He is so full of life here. All of it was still ahead of him. So enjoy.  All righty. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

“Keeping Me Alive”

They said love was a thing of the past
That these days nothing ever lasts
This old world is moving too fast

Well sometimes we ride around
She plays her radio up loud
If I was sad, well, I’m happy now

And it feels so good to know
I got you where you belong
Here in my heart, right by my side
Honey you’re getting me by
Yeah you’re keeping me alive

I got a job, I work hard
These days the money don’t go very far
It’s hard enough keeping gas in the car

But sometimes we ride around
She plays the radio up load
If I was sad, well, I’m happy now

Yeah and it feels so good to know
I got you where you belong
Here in my heart, right by my side
Honey you’re getting me by
Yeah you’re keeping me alive

And it feels so good to know
I got you where you belong
Here in my heart, right by my side
Honey you’re getting me by
Yeah you’re keeping me alive
Yeah you’re keeping me alive
Yeah you’re keeping me alive

© 1982 Tom Petty