j_h_holliday | Recent Entries

There are a number of rings before a Georgia peach accented voice comes on the line.

"You have reached the voice mail of John Holliday. If you would be so kind, leave a message and I will endeavor to get back to you as soon as possible."

There is a brief cough before a beep.

Current Mood: accomplished

Jealous:
He saw her eyes storm, dark and vicious, and in a way his never did when she set herself upon a male, and that made him smile.

Jail:

"Gamblin' outside of licensed establishments is illegal in this here county, it's either a misdemeanor or a fine of five hundred bucks," the sheriff explained as he held out his hand for the cash.

Java:

The waitress at the all night diner spared him a kind smile when he asked for cup of hot tea, and spared him her gaze when he added a little something from his flask to make it stronger.

I am drunk.

I hurt my foot on my run.

No more tags.

Mistakes were made.

Hashtag.

This icon.

Current Mood: drunk

"O, what a world of unseen visions and heard silences, this insubstantial country of the mind! What ineffable essences, these touchless rememberings and unshowable reveries! And the privacy of it all! A secret theater of speechless monologue and prevenient counsel, an invisible mansion of all moods, musings, and mysteries, an infinite resort of disappointments and discoveries. A whole kingdom where each of us reigns reclusively alone, questioning what we will, commanding what we can. A hidden hermitage where we may study out the troubled book of what we have done and yet may do. An introcosm that is more myself than anything I can find in a mirror. This consciousness that is myself of selves, that is everything, and yet is nothing at all - what is it?
And where did it come from?
And why?"

Julian Jaynes, The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind.

Current Mood: thoughtful

I am a former dentist turned gambler with antibiotic resistant TB, AMA

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nec spe nec metu

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate

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