*Internet ate this post. This is the second attempt. Thank god it is short.
Once again someone has written my thoughts decades earlier and more purely.
"You mean to say that you can LOVE a piece of buttered toast?
only some, sir. on certain mornings. in certain rays of sunlight.
love arrives and departs without notice." -Charles Bukowski
God bless his drunk, boil-covered misogynistic dead head.
P.S. I am out of books. I need a new one. Any suggestions?