Turn on, tune in

I am tired and cranky this morning. Probably cranky because I am tired. And probably tired from being sleep deprived. I am tired to the degree that when I look at the word 'tired' I barely recognize it and think it must be mispelld [sic.]. M. Scott Peck wrote: "Life is difficult." I concur. He also felt that "romantic love" is really about dependency. If these two thoughts are put together into our psyche's (sp?), we may as well take a silver bullet to the heart. I agree with Peck, may he rest in peace, about "romantic love". I become spellbound, elevated, like nothing could touch me. It feels so good I want it to last forever. I drink in more by being with her as much as possible, until everything else around me slips away. This becomes my drug of choice; more than gin, wine, heroin, opiated hash; more than anything ever invented or grown by man or woman. It is the most dangerous substance I have ever inhaled. Romantic love can kiss my ass. And that's not me being cynical, just a realist determined to live another joyous day. There. I feel much better now. I think I need my cup of coffee.