Thursday, August 19, 2021

A string of thoughts I had while sitting at my desk for 4 consecutive hours today

I am frustrated as hell.

I am in a reading rut.

I am depressed.

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I edited that.

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STRUGGLING

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Reincarnation is real.

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I have everything I need to be happy, except a girlfriend, and I'm tryin' for that.

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I used to go in Colorado from my tree to the marijuana dispensary all the time and pick up a soda or a few joints, and drink/smoke my purchases on the way back to my tree.

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This shit is drivin' me crazy.

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It's fuckin' difficult

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I'm not feelin' it.

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Every breath counts.

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I am keeping this open all day, adding to it all day.

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I am trying to enact the secret. I try to restrain my thoughts and feelings from negative wavelengths 'cause I know whatever I think and feel I bring into my life.

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This will open up my mind, keeping the blog-post open all day until I've added enough, probably at the end of the day.


John Steinbeck said at the end of the day, only 1 question really matters: did I do well? Or did I do ill?

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My cat Gray is here. She is on the floor behind me. I have my own little prison cell here: I have my computer, my desk, my pad and pen. It's my work station. It's a spartan room. I am forced to do my work here. I have only had this desk in this room for a few days.

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Thinkin' about readin' Tuesdays w Morrie today, but I'm afraid of startin' something not knowing when I'll finish it; I'm in a reading slump.

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Life is an art.

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My plan is to sit here and write- come up with ideas, jot them down, and type them into the computer- until 4 o clock. Then, I'm going to try to read Tuesdays w Morrie. I hope I get a lot of visitors today. You are welcome. This is my room. Whatever I share here is on my own terms.

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We often experience information *overload. We need to learn just how much we can accomplish in one lifetime (it's not that much). We can only know so many people, wake up so many days, and have so many experiences. We need to learn to gauge the amount of activity in our lives according to a realistic limit.

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I used to think using drugs was the answer to all of my problems, but now I see they don't really solve any real problems. They just make you feel inspired for a little while, but the toll it takes on your clarity is often not worth it. Put simply, they're just a waste of time.

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Is your mind getting more brittle?

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Life comes around in CYCLES. An old man will soon be a baby. Both are feeble and dependent.

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If you think you'll never be old, just be patient.

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My book sucks. For example, there were two central, recurring details to my journey that hardly even made it INTO the book, if at all. One: I named my bicycle Sam a few weeks into my journey, in Georgia, and thereafter referred to him as such, until I lost 'im in Colorado. It was always Sam this, Sam that. And two: I had developed an ingrown toenail before leaving Savannah. It was a pain in the ass all the way to Colorado. It even developed gangrene. This was a constant companion on the journey. I just forgot to mention it. 

The fact is, I've just forgotten a lot about how the journey really went.

I've never really tried my hand at fiction, aside from some shit I wrote when I was about 10, a story inspired by the movie "Problem Child," and some books I wrote for SEARCH (in school) that I also illustrated, and Mrs. Ward typed out and bound.  

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I don't believe in pushing yourself too hard, like Christopher McCandless. Just enjoy life

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As an artist, one of the big questions is: when to improve? When not to improve? Sometimes you have to break out of your comfort zone a little bit. But when is good enough good enough? Admittedly, sometimes it pays to try to improve things, but sometimes the effort just backfires. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

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I bought some Kratom a couple of weeks ago. It was just a waste of time. I brought it home, tried it, and it just made me feel lightheaded and nauseous. My aunt called me when I was on it, and I was so fucked up I couldn't talk to her, and I haven't heard from her since.

The idea was I hadn't had a shower, and that's why I couldn't talk. Actually, I didn't want to talk to 'er just then 'cause of the Kratom. I shouldn't have even picked up. 

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Fuck alcohol

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I didn't study hard enough in school

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What are you doin' with your life?

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I wish LSD was legal.

I would take that shit every day.

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I wish I could do woodworking, or carpentry, or welding, or mechanics, or plumbing, or electrician's work. 

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Sittin' here. Tick Tock the clock ticks the time goes by. It's silent here, so quiet, the only sounds the occasional meow of my cat, the occasional click of my heater. Peaceful, dark in this room, removed, secluded, still. 

The sun is shining brightly outside. In all likelihood, I will not see anyone else for another week.

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Ordered a metronome from Musician's Friend. They chose a good name if they wanted to get a lot of business from lonely guys who like to consider themselves musicians. It'll be here by the early part of September, probably.

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Neighbors makin' fun of me. Fuck 'em.

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The Bible- Psalms is my favorite. I particularly like the realistic stance it takes on life: there are evil men in the world, there are sinners, there are corrupt men in the world, and God will punish them for their sins; it's only a matter of time. Anyone who stands against the Psalmist is the enemy of God, for he stands in tandem with God. Anyone who stands against God stands against him. He prays constantly for their destruction. 'May they go down to the pit.'

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One thing I have always had an intuition about, but which I have had confirmed by reading books is that everyone is in pain. There is no one who is NOT in pain, for PAIN is the human condition.

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I feel bad about the way St. John's went, particularly that final semester.

I thought I did alright for the first 7 semesters. It was just that final semester where I felt like I was wastin' my time.

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Books & Coffee.

Everybody's got to have something to grab onto.

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If you give a mouse a cookie, he's gonna want a glass of milk...

The more you learn, the more you know that there is MORE to learn.

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Sometimes it's more the things you don't say than the things you say.

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I am a loser.


Constance Garnett/Maude. I started reading War & Peace in the Constance Garnett translation, when I read the Maudes lived a long time in Moscow, knew Tolstoy very well, and he gave them his approval on their translation. I would prefer the Maude translation, I believe. It is the one used in the Norton Critical Edition, as well as the Oxford World Classics.

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Copper's dead. He's buried in the front yard. I was thinking about reading Pet Sematary.

I have a copy that I bought for 25 cents at the Salvation Army.

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I've got a red Tascam that I use to do all of my dirty work.


Lindsey is unfaithful.

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12 more minutes.


....

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It's 4 o' clock now. 

Have a good day.

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