Good luck.

If by some freak random occurrence life squeaks out a tiny wink of a hint of good luck to this grinding lame machine of living gears and winches, and it drips down and punctures into some living beings rusted dreams during the night, exploding in a liquid bloom, blue tides of warmth and childhood memories washing through and through the matters of the every-day, floating behind your eyes and making you shed tears of memory, lost and lone, rolling down the rabbit hole to your shards of glass secret place; would it make you happy? And in turn, would that make me the luckiest man in this rusted dream world?

New years was fun. My little doppelganger affair was a blast. I was just as drunk as I expected myself to be. That morning literally was dawn of the dead, courtesy zombie-Jill. We saw "Blood Diamond" earlier that day. Frickin’ excellent film. Highly suggested. And I guess this is the first post to start up the new year. I think we’re off to a really splendid start. Lot’s of love going out to my peeps. Lot’s of love staying here with me. And lot’s of love strewn all about the place, in as disorganized a fashion as I can manage.

I’ve included a chart to help you all better understand where I’m at with myself lately.