years without grass

Bumped into a friend while outside walking, talked about the current zombie apocalypse while keeping 6 feet between us. I annoyed her because I was cheery but I wasn’t trying to say these conditions aren’t serious, just fascinated how things can change in an instant or to put it another way, that our state of auto pilot isn’t necessarily constant. There is something wonderful about being reminded you don’t know what happens next. Maybe that comes from enjoying years of improvisation or from liking Zen, Sufi, Hassidic, Indigenous stories where enlightened people say things upon waking up in the morning like “today is a good day to die.” Watched the doc Danny Says and was not surprised to hear people threw beer bottles at the Ramones when they opened for Edgar Winter. What was the audience suppose to do? Accept the unexpected without being violent?

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