Dogger's Lack of Appeal

Further Scribbles From His Early 1990's Notes

I wish I had more connection to people these days, but it isn't so and it doesn't seem likely to be forthcoming. I'm just here and I'm just me--not more attractive than I used to be, not more tolerant of others, not reaching out any further than what you may see at first brief glance here. If it's a hard existence or a long sentence, it's a self-imposed one and there's little likelihood of talking my way out of it or into any other frame of mind. There will probably be no suddenly growing an appealing puppy-dog tail that I could wag. What about YOUR tail--who will be crowing over that? I can't wake up, I can't wake up, Although I have good intentions and I often rise before the morning shines, Or before my submarine alarm clock goes off-- It's dreadful, And I'm being slowly crowded off the bed.

As noted elsewhere in this blog, Gatsby ended his life in 1994.