Now I've eaten salad and a nectarine and some pretzels and there's a cat on my lap and an old movie on and I'm using the LJ app to say I'm aware of SO many ways this could be worse, for me personally.
Not the least of which is I could be locked up with an abuser, or otherwise locked in codependency.
My thoughts can do me more harm, let run wild, than lots of the real-world reality.
There's Steve McQueen, who in my youth was just a name I knew referred to someone movie-star attractive in the common understanding. He's just gotten out if prison and will soon try to get away with Ali McGrawjjk, before he dies of cancer, and all of that long before I'd see him in a movie. This film is really old now--- 1972--- as old now as Casablanca was in something like the mid-1990s. But it doesn't seem that old to me. Decades like those are to young people now like the 1920s and 1930s are to me. Something you know about, sorta.
Today I'm off work for the Vernal Equinox. You'd hardly know it, since we're mostly at home now.
Haven't heard yet about the Nitrate Film Fest being cancelled, or thought whether I'll go if it isn't. I suppose it probably will be. It's at the beginning of June.
This sure is some development, this thing.