I write from the River Rock casino in Vancouver. Actually my family is playing--I on the other hand have found a nook that is a bit private, and am writing this bit of introspection to be productive in some small way at least. I am accompanied by a Nestle Drumstick and a bright yellow Butterfinger.

It's a funny thing, this life. Anyway I just came from the Phantom of the Opera in Vancouver. Some clever effects in there, and overall an entertaining experience for me. I identified in some ways with the Phantom--the dark, brooding recluse, which is how I occasionally am when in a mood for enjoying poetry.

I'd gone to bed at 2AM last night, writing out some ideas for a breakthrough idea for my internet work. 24 hours later it does not seem so brilliant, but I think it has some merit/usefulness, so I plan to work on it when I can. 24 hours later I'm a bit daunted by the effort required.

I'm with family today, so the focus has been on my Second Important Thing, which is "Cherishing my family". This is no more and no less than simply enjoying being in the presence of those I love, while I can, which is only a couple of days in this visit.

Definitely tired, a bit irritable, and slow thinking today, owing to needing more sleep. Given that I am currently in a somewhat noisy casino, I figure the best course of action is to write, or to read. It's partly a resort, so surely there is a peaceful spot somewhere? I'll check the map.

I have just finished the Butterfinger and immediately regretted it. Its oversweetness lingers in my stomach, and a few minutes later I feel even more tired. I shall stick to Nestle Drumsticks in the future.

10 minutes past midnight, and my family is probably just getting started on the slots. So I resume my book.

It is a noisy place, but I close my eyes and listen
to a door clicking shut in the mezzanine above
to the spirited chatter of young people by the fireplace
to more doors, bigger doors, closing with a solid sound
to two women arguing, but I do not see them
to my exhaled breath