June 9th, 2001

Loon

Work or family ... work or family ... work or family ...

Damn ... another one of those days. I had a nice long "to-do" list sketched out for today. Stuff that NEEDS to get done. Unfortunately, The Wife had other ideas about the schedule. I at least was able to get the huge stack of out-going boxes down to the Post Office. As it turned out, that was all the work I got done today. They were running late for Daughter #1's swimming lessons, so were going to take a cab down there, so we loaded up the boxes and they dropped me off at the post office to get those out and then I caught up with them for lunch. We then walked down to Grant Park to catch some of Blues Fest. They've had problems in some years funding some of the fests, but this is obviously not one of those years, since Blues Fest was on from Thursday night through Sunday night. Super weather for it too ... warm, partly sunny. It was packed. The city makes $1 for every $5 in tickets sold for food & beverage (they sell sheets of 10 fifty-cents tickets and everything costs x-number of tickets), and with it being warm and reasonably sunny they must have been doing great ... about the cheapest thing you can get there is a soda, and that's 4 tickets. Anyway, we got back about 4pm and everybody was beat, and I ended up crashing until about 9 (again ... I think this happened last Saturday too) ... which was good, since I didn't get to bed this morning until about 6 and only got about 3 hours then. Since I didn't get anything done today, I'm probably going to be up all night tonight too. Of the 8 major things on the "to-do" list for today one is done (the boxes out) and another six I can get done tongiht, letting the other one slide to tomorrow. I had hoped to get to some web stuff (I have four major web projects that I'm trying to get knocked down ... finishing the 2U site, updating my RSI sites with the new Unicity info, getting at least the START of my poetry site up (with all these poems being put up in L.J., I can at least cut-and-paste those up) at btripp.com, and updating the Eschaton site ... although this latter is going to require some time on the phone with tech service at the damn ISP ... I still can't get their shopping cart to work for me and I haven't been able to get into the mail since the fall!

Here's a poem from yesterday. Wrote one today too, but haven't gotten it typed up yet. I'll probably let the date roll over and put it up in "tomorrow" so I don't have two poems on one day ... so confusing.


                    IN THE NEWNESS OF THESE DAYS


                    this decline
                    is unending
                    the bottom
                    never comes
                    just new forms
                    of degradation
                    new ways to lose
                    new things to break

                    every day
                    brings new despair
                    all that we've hoped for
                    seems gone, dissolved
                    in crueller light
                    or burning rain
                    stripping down desire
                    into primal pain

                    like nightmares
                    that nestle
                    within other evil dreams
                    these days lurk in weeks
                    which fill with anguish
                    and these too in months
                    which are the blocks
                    of strangely sad years

                    as the sun retreats
                    we see our world
                    as one apart
                    separate and locked
                    into a pointless cycle
                    of striving and failing
                    herculean efforts
                    which never bear fruit

                    where is the place
                    which harbors success?
                    when is the day
                    which promises growth?
                    how can we exit
                    this spiral of doom
                    drawing us deeper and deeper
                    towards destruction and death?



                             - Brendan Tripp
                                06/08/2001

                    Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp
 
 



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