Meh. I just don’t feel well or creative, nor do I feel like exposing my soul. I don’t even feel like formulating opinions, and that my friends, is rare. Believe me.

It’s almost as if I’m bleeding somewhere inside. This seems like a physical discomfort and not mental. I feel as though I’m sort of disconnected with the world. Meh. I’m not tired of anything in particular. Maybe it’s just the weather or maybe I’m on the computer too much and not giving my brain the nutrition it needs.

I keep having these depressing thoughts that I’m going to keel over and die. I worry that I am just going to go to sleep and die. Ugh. Maybe I’m going crazy or I’m discovering neurosises (neurosii?) I never knew I had. Granted, that isn’t a bad way to go….if you’re 99 years old. But there is so much I want to see and do.

I want to dance on the shores of Italy. (Yes, Saun, I do want to go there.) I want to sing my lungs out at Blarney Castle. I would love to see Rome and all its beautiful art.

Why do I keep thinking that I am going to die?