Ben Kingsley's dying. YAY!
Bob Peck obsession continues unabated. If you could read the hundreds of Blogs I have, you'd know the whole story. Peck died, in 1999, but in the late 90s, he made a lot of movies. Probably he did them to make money because he knew he was dying and wanted to provide for his family.
None of which explains my crushing on a dead man. I think I'm dying. I also think I'm sinking into a depression. I fell off a bus last Saturday. My left side still hurts like a mother fucker. What the hell is a bruised lung?
This time though, I won't tell anyone. I'm surrounded by mountains. There's a desert I can walk out into. No one will save me. Not even myself. Curious how I'm beginning to watch from the outside.
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