Blister on my index finger from playing bass last night after our drummer got tired and we all switched instruments. My ears are ringing a little.

We had Jack Daniels and the guitarists were down-tuned and we growled fiercely at the universe until  depleted of the energies that tortured us for the week. The walls of Hollow Way now drip with life and memories.

Afterwards I sat down and wrote for an hour. I didn’t have a plan.  It ended up being about a future earth where empathy has been evolved away as the survival requirements shifted to emotionless interaction and production. It begins by people pretending to be that way while at work for “maximum productivity”,  then with their social groups for “maximum status”, and eventually, a few generations later, it’s not pretend any more: even when they’re home alone they think of nothing but how to get what they want the next day. Eventually the genes for empathy drop away entirely and humanity becomes emotionless machinery inside of skin bags of blood and bone. But every once in a while a person is born who feels things– the recessive gene! And this story is about one of those people, and another person he meets accidentally.

I stopped after an hour, disgusted with what was there, and watched some Netflix before crashing.

No such luxuries tonight, however. I have  a major document to send around tomorrow and it’s got a ways to go. That’ll be the task for the remainder of today and tonight.

Let the coffee flow. Let the muscles heal. Let time not slip away too quickly.