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October 2, 2001 grace I grant you this:  There can be no contentment without effort.  But what else does it take?  I am struggling for peace, but I find only despair.  There must be some external component to happiness, something or someone who allows you the contentment sought.  I can feel this duality, but I am unsure whether the external force of which I speak lies at the subatomic level or whether it is immense and macrocosmic.  In any event, whoever or whatever is supposed to be working on my case is asleep at the wheel, dragging up and otherwise fucking off down at the Union Hall.  I am doing my part;  he's not doing his. In the meantime, I have become more and more like Jimmy Stewart in REAR WINDOW, but without the broken leg and without Grace Kelly.  I park-watch with binoculars trained on joggers and the squirrels with 'tudes who refuse to stand down when approached by humans.  Should I see Raymond Burr throttle one of those squirrels, I'm calling the cops

©  2001 by the beastmaster