Hey, it’s been a minute, hu? I have like a couple abandoned drunken poems that I started and then couldn’t think of a next line or whatever so I abandoned them, so yeah. that’s whatever. I’m working on personal projects because a long boring story of a thing happened that made me suddenly feel… incredibly discontent with not getting credit for my own work. It’s different if I’m just writing content for a website, and no one is getting credit for it and it’s just credited to the website itself. That’s like… I can live with that. But dude I found an article I ghost wrote for $11 and the person taking credit for it was the VP of Marketing of a huge fucking company. Like she has got to have a fucking 6 figure salary at least and she’s fucking taking credit for my work. Acting like an expert in her field with the help of words I wrote for $11. Bro. Dude. Dude. Bro. For some reason that like… killed my soul guts. SO I’ve been working on two personal projects, one fairly short one novel long. I’m more or less 10% done with both. We’re going on a fucking trip in like 10 days (9 days now I suppose omfg) and I’m like… I’ve got a bunch of shit I needa take care of and get in order before then and I’m getting freaked out about it kinda. But … hopefully I can do it all and it will be okay. I’m not going to think about it anymore right now. I got a lot of exercise today and it was very nice. I went to the gym and then like 20 seconds after I got home my brother texted me and asked if I wanted to go ride razor scooters around the university. I was like… sure, let’s do it. And it was honestly so fun. He brought his dog and his dog ran and we scooted and it’s good exercise, seriously. There were quite a few people around but they were all amused by us and the tiny dog and our scooting around scoot scoot scoot. I kept going ahead and making the dog chase me, thus pulling my brother’s scooter. Ugh, it’s so late and I’m having so many feelings. I’m currently listening to a pretty weird new album my one of my all time faves, I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. Okay, I promised myself I would do at least some work on my other project, so I’m going to go do that, and then I’m going to try and sleep I suppose. Peace.
You could go through the graveyard
Jumped the fence or pushed
The fence in
But instead you ride beside it
Steady speed wishing peace
To every stone you see
No way a ghost
Would hang around here
Just rocks across
From the city bus last stop
Why the fuck would a ghost
Hang around here
You get covered in the city real
Lock your bike to a water pipe
And go in to buy liquor
That ends up putting you
In an awkward position
To say the bone bare least
But try to sharply compensate
And in ten minutes you miss
Three days of lonesome rain
almost 4am. I’m doing some curation. Very tired but I just drank a little coffee. Put my hair up, put my headphones in. I’m going to concentrate as hard as I can and do as much as I can in the next two hours, and then I’m going to get 6 hours sleep and immediately wake up and start again. Okay? okay. Okay? okay. It’s a race against other curators this time, which really sucks honestly. I would rather just get to claim a certain amount and then do those. I really don’t like having to compete like that, you know what I mean? you know? you know what I mean? But whatever. freelancers can’t be freechoosers. I always say it, but I should get a real job. Maybe I’ll put a concerted effort into doing so after this trip happens. I dunno. Maybe I should have gone to law school or some shit lol. I guess I technically still could but it would be really hard and also suck and also I would have to get loans which… as I already mentioned… would suck. I dunno. I feel like I’m just… wasting my brain sometimes, you know? Like… it’s a really good brain and what am I even using it for? Also my muscles are strong and capable and what am I even using them for? Aaaaaanyyyhooo……. instead of spiraling into some sort of weird identity crisis right here and now in this little white box, I’m going to get to work, like, how I said I was going to.
Now it’s 5am and it’s going okay honestly. Like… not amazing but okay. I should definitely keep going like a lot. a lot a lot a lot. yeah. Okay, so, yeah. peace.
*** two days later ***
Okay, so, now it’s 12:30am like two days after I originally started this entry. Soooo basically, it looks like this curation project is about to wrap up…. and by that, I mean that it looks like everyone else is basically done for the night, and I’m going to stay awake forever and finish literally all that’s left. Also, I have to do another transcription thing for that other thing. Also, this girl I like and I’m trying to forge a ~tentative~ friendship with asked me to read over her ~~erotic~~story and give her notes and I said I would, even though I’m honestly not awesome at giving criticism, and and it’s really not my favorite thing to do… but people ask me because of my whole… writing thing. ** 10 minutes later** lol uh-oh. so far so not so good. She said to be brutally honest, (like her dance teacher is) but delivering brutality is not where my strength lies, so… we’ll see how it goes.
**5.5hours later** It’s now 6am. I’m deliriously tired and starting to hallucinate bugs a little bit lol. Also, I worked for like …. I wanna say 16 hours today?? that’s how long it seems like. Let’s calculate. lol yeah, actually, that’s about right. **thumbs up** People came online again at like 3am and I had to race them and I totally stole some from people who claimed hundreds of lines at a time, like bitch, that’s against the rules they said to claim as you go not put your name on hundreds of lines and then do them at your fucking leisure. Naw son, I’m here now and want to do them now, you can’t call dibs. Soooo I stole some they claimed. I could have done more even, but it’s 6am and I’m just toooo fucking tired. I did like 1,800 lines today. lololololol holy shit my dudes. I have a bunch of other misc shit I have to take care of tomorrow, so I should definitely definitely fucking stop writing this and let myself peace the fuck out into sleep time land. Oh, shit, before I forget to mention it / forget it ever happened, speaking of sleepy time land, the other night (like 2 or 3 nights ago idk, time is all fucked up for me right now) I had a dream that Amanda Palmer was giving me a full back stick and poke tattoo. lmfao. It was like… full color, like a shilouette of a lady standing by a tree with a bunch of colorful flowers around it?? and like… I didn’t even like it that much?? but it felt nice and Amanda Palmer was giving it to me so I just fucking went with it. yeah. that was a dream I had. yeah. cool. Idk why I even told you that honestly it’s so random but also now it is preserved forever. tight. I’m very tired. bro. dude. dude. bro. I should cut my nails but I also don’t want to and I’m fucking tired and I’m going to bed now peace out.
Trying to pull some creative thoughts together. Trying to pull something something anything together. Trying to pull things together, in general. Oronyms and wordless hymns. My hair has gone from being too light for me to being too dark for me, but I’m hoping it will fade and blend with a few days and a few washes. We’ll see. I should probably cut my nails again. They grow and grow, and it seems just a few days ago. Maybe this time I’ll be Regular Style enough to not have to immediately de-claw myself when the white creeps a few millimeters past the nail bed. Maybe they won’t become too-accessible weapons that I turn unthinkingly against myself. Yeah. Yeah. Y-y-y-y-yeah. sure. yeah. cool. yeah. sure. cool. yeah. I’m glad I went on a bike ride earlier. It was pretty short, but nice. It’s good for my brain. It’s like a leveled-up version of the walks I used to take by myself as a teenager. Faster, more wind. Still music and musing and a delicate balance of freed and occupied thoughts. Tomorrow I need to do a lot of things and get things in order and be responsible and shit. Time passes far too swiftly.
I’ve lots of things I should be writing, feel like writing. The Novel(tm) should be taking precedence probably, but… I also want to write a short horror story. (5k to 10k words, so, really… not all that short) but I don’t exactly have a plot for it, I just saw a place was looking for them. May 1st deadline. Could be interesting, could be fun. Also for a while I’ve been wanting to write an informative / funny blog on here about How Not To Die When Riding Your Bike Through A Busy City At Night, but I keep not actually doing it. When I return from such bike rides the shower calls to me and then something else will come up and then suddenly I’m over it for the moment. I want to write long, longwinded, redundant, rambling passages exploring my nature. About my body and its visceral reactions. About how such exchanges go beyond enjoyment, and I come alive to all that it is to be myself. I could devote pages and chapters trying to explain it better, but I don’t know that I would be able to. Unstrung and yet played. A tune that swells and recedes but the heart chords always sing out the same. this too, this too is you. *clears throat* as I was saying, I have a slew of ideas and vague things on my writing plate at the moment, but I seem to be having trouble delving too deeply into any of them. I need to, though. I need to. And I need paying work, preferably the kind without a one month delay. I need that terribly, desperately badly. I mislike having my ONE selling fluids, though it seems needful at this moment. I feel … cowardly for not feeling up to trying it myself. We will have to wait and see, I suppose, how things play out. For now I should swallow down this pink and white capsule, and give myself over to sleep.
- 11done4togo Brain thoughts, brain thoughts do me a sold and go faster. please. fucking hook it up bro. I’ve got four more things to write and I’m exhausted and it’s 3:30 in the morning and I’m chewing a piece of energy gum and doing everything today. 11 guides done and it will be 15 and if everything works out the way I want it to work out I’ll have made $600 in 3 days by like 5 or 6pm tomorrow that is. yeah. Basically, I need to kill these last four, queue up five more, try my best to pass the fuck out immediately, sleep for (hopefully) six hours, wake up and write those five things I claimed before their 12 hour time limit expires. and yeah, that’s basically my plan. I’ve been writing them two at a time because it seems to go faster and it gives my brain a little more to do? or like, if I’m stuck on one I can just go work on the other one for a minute and then I’ll figure out whatever it is I need to say on the other one. yeah. let’s go.
- 13done2togo. Brain is rushslow caffeinedead. Beat beat beat but the words still come too slow. Push them all out, please, please, please. The queue is starting to dwindle but god, but god, I don’t want to have to grab them all quite yet. I’ve got two and I want I want I want a little more time to grab the others. Please, please. aaanyhooo… I should get back to work now.
- 15done0togo. Brain fucking pulled it off dude. hellz yeah. Now I’ve really really really goooottta try n sleep for a few hrs. prolly gunna not post this now and just continue it tomorrow or whatever. peace.
~~the next day~~
- 5 in the queue one done. I feel like I’m fucking dying. I’m so fucking tired and I can’t think and I have to just fucking think because the time is not stopping not slowing down. The time is just going and going and I fucking hate it so much. I don’t even know what the fuck to do with myself. I hate this. I feel so fucking wrecked and just like… I can’t stop thinking about the $85 of bills I have due in 7 days and have absolutely no fucking way of paying. Like I’m trying to fucking work and get my shit done but I keep obsessively thinking about that shit and feeling horrible about it. **thumbs up** After I’m done with all of this fucking work (it’s all due in 3 hrs so … I have to be done by then) I’m going to take pictures of all this shit and try to put it on e-bay, which I know is going to be a difficult and taxing task on its own. After I finish these I will have made $620… which is exactly $380 less than I need to pay all of my bills in a month. That’s not including any food or any extras or any other fucking being alive money. Basically, I’m having a fucking breakdown about my life right now and feeling horrible and trying to somehow fucking concentrate on this bullshit.
- 4 in queue two done. coffee kicked in a little bit. Just trying to numb myself and concentrate and bounce my fucking knee all over the place and listen to music but just let it wash over me, and bounce my knee, and numb myself out and write.
why do i feel like my heart is breaking right now
- 2 in queue four done. don’t know if I’ll have time for both of them but I’ll try. Cutting it close and cutting it closer. No more time to waste here.
- 0 in queue six done. cut it close. less than 20 minutes left on that last one. Brain still is the dead. Heart is beat beating because of caffeine now tho. Hands a bit shake shake because of no food yet. Soul weary. Soul worried. Maybe feeling slightly relieved, I dunno. I need more. This turned out weird and bad but I’m guna publish it anyway because fuck it.
Preparing an offering of insufficient worth, for tomorrow when I have to show my hands all empty of coin or credit. A token and an unbelievably silly feeling one at that, but oh well I suppose. It is what it is, and I’ll have to bare empty hands either way, so I might as well. I might as well. I might as well. At least no one had to pay a ton of money to fix my car. That’s good. That’s important and also good. I’m holding that in my mind as a positive as I prepare to lay out my case. And I have all manner of strange tabs open here. This one and a dauntingly long list of work from home opportunities, and two tabs about how to take scientific surveys of fish populations, and copy block procedures in PDF form. I have more and more still open in my mind. Trying to relegate some to separate windows so I don’t have to see them see them see them see them so much so all the time. This coarse ground stone ground coffee has proved my doubts incorrect, as evidenced by my greyhound dashing heart and even somewhat slipstream mind. Good, because I need speed. I need speedy thoughts, but I can feel it rushing my anxiety as well, pushing it all suddenly urgent against my chest. As far as prices go that is one I’ll gladly pay, because such chest pains sit lightly upon me, born lighter and lighter with long practice. Feeling slow and feeling sleepy is at this time unacceptable. I’ve promises and miles and you know. you probably know.