Lately the psycle has four spokes:

* Elation that refuses to subside (it thinks).

* Numb, looking for pleasure, but would take pain.

* Megalomaniacal prophecy and vision.

* Flat line depression.

Hey, I'll be gone for 3 days, but, don't worry, I'll be coming back. I wrote a lot yesterday (my fave of the 3 posts) and that should stave off your jonesing for words that only seem to make sense.

While waiting for life that sucks to die, why not listen to my favorite unsigned bands: TQ's Garage Band Playlist.