(no subject)

This morning, just before waking up, I dreamt that someone had cut back my (ex-)bonsai to almost a bare trunk, and for some reason this worried me to the point of tears; the kind of dream that makes you feel relief when you wake up to realise it has only been a dream. Odd.


I'm read too much trash, and only trash. It's rather pathetic.

Also, I think I might be getting a sore throat. As if I haven't got enough health issues (well, issue, singular, not to exaggerate) at the moment.


Randomness: Does it bother anyone else that art so often is the result of, or closely linked to, personal pain and unhappiness?



And, because it bears repeating, I really love Stadium Arcadium. So very beautiful, not only, but also in a powerful, good vibrations (awful phrase, but can't think of a better substitute at the moment), smile-on-my-face way.