A Sleep Deprived Mind or War with the CPAP

A sleep deprived mind is a terrible thing. The neurons don’t fire like they should and sometimes you don’t think “normal” like you should. I think that may end up being the case with me. After all I sleep with this mask contraption strapped to my head that’s supposed to help me sleep better. I look in the mirror sometimes at night after I “suit up” and I remind myself of something from outer space. It’s connected to a machine that blows air through the mask and keeps me “pumped up” at night. It’s a non-snore machine. It’s really kind of weird that anyone could ever think of something like this.

I feel rested though, so what the heck.

They have a saying about drugs that a “Mind on Crack is a terrible thing” I think in my case it’s a “Crack in the Mind is a terrible thing.” My brain is cracked and nobody minds. Weird things come out of my mouth. My body doesn’t do what I ask it. It does what it dang well pleases. Is it age related? I hope not, because I ain’t getting any younger.

I have been thinking about world events, but I really don’t feel like talking about them. Talking about world events is like walking through a pasture full of cow pies blindfolded.

I really don’t feel much like talking about religion or existentialism, either. That’s like walking through a cow pasture full of “pasture pudding” and land mines.

Dang…I don’t know what to talk about.

I got any idea though. I’ll do a post about the things I don’t want to talk about and put it on and don’t tell anybody that’s what it is about until the last line.

That’ll do it.

Creatures of the Earth


We are of the earth, no matter your philosophy of how we got here.

We are all creatures of this world.

No matter our skin color or the shape of our eyes, we are creatures of this world.

We are so much like other living things, that it is plain to anyone who will look, that our basic blueprint was laid down long ago, in our cells and in our spirit.

We are of this Earth, but our spirit can soar high, if we will only allow it to do so the first time.

High into the pink sunsets we can fly like the eagle or the hawk.

We are every cloud and raindrop which falls and runs to the sea.

We are of the ocean, and every wave which breaks on the sand.

Forever tied to our planet which sustains us, which has sustained us, and which will be here long after us.

Larry Bowers