There is no irony today. There is no time travel today. There is no religion, evolution, rolled up sleeves, blood on my hands, metaphors, boxes, compartmentalization, escape, games of hide and seek, Robert Lochavens, alter egos, voices in my head, beach balls to the face or obstacles to face today.
There is no heaven and there is no hell today.
There is only me.
Just Yoko and me.
And thunder.
And of course a routine deployment of Jazz Hands.
Day two-hundred and thirty complete.
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