ESAD

I HAVE LOST TRACK OF THE ORDER OF THE REVISIONS. DOES IT MATTER OR DOES IT JUST CONTRIBUTE TO THE GENERAL CHAOS?For no particular reason that I can think of, aside from the general circumstances of my life, I woke up sad this morning. There is also the possibility that I picked up some kind of bug. I often have difficulty telling the difference betweeen physical and psychological afflictions unless I run a fever or shoot someone in which case it becomes more obvious. Does my informing potentially millions of people of my condition (although right now the count is four) go against my goal of writing only about the blog? I don't know for a fact that either of these afflictions, if they turn out to be afflictions will affect the quality of the text. If they don't, then I would gratuitously have given away a state secret, so to speak. although since murder and fever are still possibilities now, I think an alice-in-wonderland court would give me a pass. Non Sequitur. I've now gone back and read three or four of the first blogs and edited some of them (not to worry, your favorite passages will most likely remain unharmed).THE ONLY WAY YOU COULD HARM THEM WOULD BE TO BURN THEM Typos, repetitions, sentences too stupid even for me have been sent to their electronic home deep in the bowels of my computer. But I did decide (which is not the same as making a decision in blogspeak) that I would edit old blogs as I wrote new ones. (Did I already tell you this ten times?) Early blogs will be marked EDITED at the end when I remember to do so. This creates a slight chronological problem. I edited some things out because they promised things that along the way I decided not to deliver. There will also probably be references to things in the earlier blogs that I decided to kill but not until I referred back to them. I plan on doing this at least three or four times, maybe more if it turns out as I instinctively feel it will, though this may be my faulty mathematical sense at work,the distance between each new post and each edit should gradually shrink until some time in the 22nd century I will reach a point where I have nothing to say and nothing to fix. My computer comes with only a two year warantee so I am worried. I am even more worried about the warantee that I come with since I can think of nothing so unfair as to slog you through this shit, then leave you high and dry (or low and soggy) in the middle, not knowing how it pans out. I will therefore make you this pledge: if my death comes mid-sentence (a cerebral hemorrhage or something like that), you are fucked. I am fucked too but that is not your problem. If I feel myself coming down with a debilitating disease but can approximate the point of my demise, I will put together some sort of smash-up ending or just stop writing and edit what I have written so you will at least have edited non-completion which is better than non-edited non-completion, which feels to me like walking nude in a blizzard. (You have to think about that one and it might make sense). Anyway, I don't think there is anything you need to worry about now, since it may turn out that I am neither physically or psychologically ill. If I murder someone I don't know if they will give me a computer in jail but I will smuggle in an iphone or something. Is everybody happy? ASIDE FROM REPETIOUSNESS, THE GRACELESSNESS OF THIS POST IS TRULY ASTOUNDING FOR ANYONE WHO HAS COMPLETED FOURTH GRADE