Isodorbide Increase

One of my early entreprenuerial endeavors which, unfortunately, went bad, was as a drug dealer. The good news is no one was killed, though I came close. The life-threatening events combined with almost daily use of LSD imbued a compulsion I still wrangle: the need to move camp each day.

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I had, the day before, gone to Gold Beach to assuage the urge and search for reading material. Besides the expense of the gasoline, almost any sort of physical activity, has, for the past four months, become increasingly debilitating.

After some consultation with She-of-the-Capri, I decided to increase the isosorbide. A long-acting form of nitroglycerin, it facilitates oxygen uptake and enables me to, again, move with at least a modicum of energy. Already beyond the recommended daily dose, there's an increased  risk of kidney failure and dependence. But the affect was amazing. 

At Cape Blanco, the steady, onshore breeze sent two remote-controlled gliders dipping and swirling like swallows. As the sun shone through their wings, I marveled at the technology. 

The lighthouse beckoned. A mere thousand feet, if that, away, I set out as if on a month's journey. My tiny steps, all I could manage with the wind and the slope, might've, in a brighter mood, had me singing the High Hopes song. I stopped several times to rest & bolster my resolve; the diversity of plants, the VIEW were grand incentives. I reveled in the expanded stamina and eventually, further gladdened by espying a bench, I reached the top.

Driving home in the dark, I recalled Vince lying on his couch, hours before cutting his wrists, crying because he'd not be able to ride his bicycle again. He was one of the few who was inurred to the effects of morphine and the pain of the cancer was unbearable.

At one point I lapsed into self-pity, at least that's what it felt like, and began to cry at a life circumscribed by PTSD...what might've been?

The road follows the boundary of a clear cut that, for a few hundred feet, enables an expansive view that extends to the bay. At first I thought it an illusion, but then, noticing the night as clear, saw it was the light of the moon illuminating the water.

Though the photos only give an inkling, if you enlarge them, each contains a slightly different feel. They hint at what makes life worth living...besides a Tesla, of course. 

Rather than materialism, what if we fostered imbuing this appreciation? Couldn't we explore ways to sustain it moment to moment? Consciousness, the ability to experience our senses, to move.....so wondrous and so taken for granted until infirmity and/or age brings ephemerality to the fore.