Man, I don’t even know what to call Horrordelic. Trance? Psy-trance? Minimal techno? Norwegian? Yah, I’m going to just stick with Norwegian. That pretty much covers it. The Scandinavians seem to be pretty comfortable with dark themes so I don’t think they’d be too offended if I just called this Norwegian music. They own their shit. And let’s be perfectly honest. We can have our sunshiney, super-surfy, happy summer days, but shit here in the USA is pretty fucking strange so this may just be perfectly American too. It doesn’t seem out of place.

Weird to wake up and realize that for all the dread that I brought into the week, it’s already Wednesday. Shit didn’t seem to be racing as it was happening. Quite the opposite, it felt like time was dragging, but yet here we are on Hump Day. Sure it’s not even 7am but knowing that just waking up is the hardest part, the day is practically behind us. Once you’ve committed to jumping out of the plane, and then jumped, the worst is over. Plummeting headlong into the ground may be a complete horrorshow but it doesn’t make sense to worry about the impact after you’re out of the plane.

And I’m out of the plane. Here we go. The parachute opens or it doesn’t but it’s too late to worry about that now. I’m okay with the outcome. There are preferences but the world doesn’t work according to preferences. It can somewhat work in accordance with preparation but preferences to outcomes is pretty pointless. You get what you get. There will either be another entry here tomorrow morning or there won’t.

Fingers crossed.

If you want to make Dr. Fauci laugh, tell him your plans for tomorrow. The devil is in the details, yada yada.

Whatever.