I had a dream about eating with Anthony Bourdain. In essence, it was a sex dream even though there was no sex.
It left me wanting to eat, to have an adventure, to get out and do some vaguely hallucinogenic things again. I have been whittling away my days in front of the computer rather fruitlessly. I read the news about elections, recessions, and wars. Things seem to go in my brain and rattle around a bit without getting processed before going out again.
I feel age hardening around the edges and I find myself silently stewing in anger during the day.