There's blood in my eye. Literally. When I was at the eye doctor last week, I started hemorrhaging in my right eye as I was being examined. I don't know if it was as a RESULT of being examined, but it happened there. I've had a nasty floater ever since. In four days I'm going in to see a laser surgeon to learn the extent of my problem and to ascertain whether there is anything that can be done to correct the situation. So much for the illusion of invulnerability. I've had Diabetes since 1974, and this is the first real inkling I've had that I'm deteriorating. Well, I've had a good run. I obviously don't have any more time for horseshit--nor do I have the patience for it. "Horseshit" is listening to my middle-aged friends talk about their cocks, and wondering if any of them will ever grow up enough to settle down and get married. One friend keeps chasing after some little 22-year-old slut who openly laughs at him, but gives him just enough tail to keep him interested. Another saves his pennies so he can go up to Canada a few times a year "where the hookers are really nice." I can't bear to hear about their pathetic adventures when I have a house full of books that I probably won't be able to read in a couple of years.