it's Monday, so the old protesters are at it again, trying to close down the video store that (gasp!) sells porn in a hidden back room.

it was a rough weekend. a conversation with an old friend sent me into a deep depression that lasted all weekend. i was obnoxious to everyone around (ok, more obnoxious), and was ready to give up music forever.

today i talked briefly to a friend of mine. we were lovers once; we've long since passed into the realm of friends. she's been going through something of a breakdown. she's recently split with her love of several years, and is planning to move to the other side of the country now, away from the city that has been her home nearly all of her life.

But one thing struck me above all. She cut off all of her hair.

She didn't shave it, just cut it close. The trauma was that she had been growing it for sixteen years.

I went home and looked in the mirror. My hair was getting long for me; i buzz it down with a trimmer every so often, but that's about it.

I pulled out the trimmer and shaved it down to stubble.

I then took out a regular razor and shaved the rest of it down to the skin.

My ancestors have seen to it that a second look would remove most doubts that my haircut signals "white power". But it still garners looks.

Then, i plugged my guitar into its amp and started to jam for a while.

It may not be as radical a change, but as little as twelve hours ago, i was barely ready to face the world at all, let alone pick up the guitar again.

Maybe it was something making me stronger by not killing me. But a depression that dark is not my preferred way of growing stronger.