Friday, June 27, 2008

If This Thing Were Only Too Good

Tried to read and tried to sleep. I didn't get much of the latter done, but could and that would frack up my night and so I've been forcing myself to stay awake...reading...writing...and creating all this hell of conscience with my mother, willful and unrelentingly demanding things be done my way, then storming off to go do whatever I want, even though it's changed. Well, so what? It's all worked out perfectly. She's got done what she wanted, and I got done what I wanted. So, there! It's perfect. People don't always get along. Some times there's no compromise. Fixed what I fracked up several weeks ago, but we'll really see tomorrow when I get to actually try it. Broke a pipe or two and finally got to where I could fix it. But fix it I did. Now again I'm hungry and I don't want to eat what I'd eat at work on the weekend. (Turkey Sandwiches and Chips.) I want to go and get something out. I want to get laid. I don't have the money. I have it but I must save it for bills coming soon. I have a book and I have some fumeric acid coming for my skin, and it's not here, none of it, yet I'm getting catalogs from these health companies for products galore, but I don't want any thing from them, I didn't ask them to send these's horrible. What to do now? Drink more water. Take some Silver Colloidial...think about the Anime Expo next week you have a pre-paid $25.00 One Day Pass for. You need cash for attending that. Cash money to drive up to the Willow Street station in Long Beach, and then cash for food, eating breakfast before going...and then some there...eating...and oh, of course, your real reason for going: BUYING MANGA!! Bring your list of open to other possibilities...bring your camera too...get a photo of you and some hot young manga chick in costume as one of those, you know, manga "heroes", I dunno. Whatever. Sheesh. Get a life. Do something. Move. Get out. Close storage place. New job, real job. Get rid of this fracking stiff neck and shoulders. Pain in the arse from sitting here typing too. It's horrible!! What to do, what to do, what to do?

Friday, June 20, 2008

Believing As They Say We Should Believe

If we have it so that, well, we are sentient beings and we have a soul that lives on to either be punished for all time or not...
If we have nothing to look forward to, because, there's nothing after, that whatever consciousness we have now, dissipates into the cosmos just as it appeared as we came in/developed and grew tired and moved on...
Believing as they say we should, what more is there to it? What does there need to be? Why must there be any thing? Before? During? After?
It seems to me that all of this, every thing, is just a time waster, something to do while we're here...some kind of semblance of "order" by and by to keep civil and not wipe us totally out while we're here futzing around...but we should be believing as they say we should believe, it's just a control thing, trying to make sense of things and order life as if we all had some kind of control over it. Which, I don't consider we have much spin on. Not much any way. It's like gardening in a whirlwind, grasping ghosts with shovels. What do you believe? Why? Isn't it all just by the by with what your parents raised you as, your culture demanded, and that, if you were born elsewhere and in a different time, you'd certainly believe and actuate other visions and other dreams. Maybe there's nothing else in all of this but this. That, this is all there is, and, to consider and think and wish and hope is just ridiculous, just another futz around with the precious amount of staying-ness (time) we have here. It'll all be gone soon, all according to some crazy plan of you doing what you do plus what others are doing yourself, good luck, we're all going to die and that's about it. Boompf, nothing more. No sense being bothered by any thing really, is there? Yet we do. We are. We create these worlds and messages and myths and realities...all so that we won't be so scared of the inevitable I think we all realize deep deep down: WE ARE ALONE AND FRIGHTENED TO DEATH OF ... DEATH ... and that's the one last thing going we have to conquer in life, of a way of going where we go through experience, realizing things, unique to us, but in many ways common to all...more or less...and then we're gone. Oh well. So what. Why the beef or comment or in some cases: bother.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Going To Take A Shower

Hot, going to take a shower. Have to. Tired. Must. Also, for all this "dehydration", must drink: WATER. And, reduce this beer intake. Not that I'm drinking heavily or anything, but I am steady of late, my other supplemental skin related pills aren't taking any effect with my red bumps on my skin, the damn "psoriasis" or whatever the hell it might be. And on that score, I've got some FUMERIC ACID coming in a few days, that will I hope REALLY do the trick in regards getting rid of this dreaded skin difficulty. It's supposedly what the "problem" is with the body that has this condition, it's a lack of Fumeric Acid. And, meanwhile, one is not supposed to drink or eat a lot of high sugar foods, etc. Don't dehydrate basically.
Okay, so, shower, hydrate, skin drinks water...why not? Moving on. Moving something else to do...sleep in some, and move on from here. Move on.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

RE: Emails...

Friend of mine sent me an email to my regular address and it contained a link to a bit of movie of Henry Miller, the famous writer, and he talked to the camera on a movie set of New York City, talking about New York, and what a hell hole it was for him as a kid. Weird. I'd never seen it before. I'd never heard him speak before and I've never actually read any of his books, though through the whatever it is you know someone, I've known him.
I wrote to my friend to thank her and I was out of it, I just sent the email and I didn't even write any, this first email attests to the fact and then describes in detail my life that day...

"Crazy, eh? About like that recent missive about Miller...yes. He's like you'd think he'd sound...and, why the movie set any way? Hmm. Interesting....Like me just now. I could have sworn I'd gotten up at 7.45 AM Wednesday morning. And I was to report to work on Wednesday, at 6.15 AM, and thought I was late.(It's 7:48 PM Tuesday, 6.10.08 as I originally wrote this.) I called work, told them I'd be in, in about an hour. Sorry I'm late...and they told me's...are you...It's Tuesday...Did you wake up from a nap just now? Uhhh...Yeah, thanks. See you tomorrow. Good Night.
The light out my windows these days of night and morning low clouds, is just the same here (overcast) and I couldn't tell that I just went to sleep at 6 and then woke up, bright as day, clear in the muddle as can be, an hour and 45 minutes later, but thinking that, I'd slept the night through, just like I'd planned.
I was kind of pissed. Stupid assed alarm clock. I'd been meaning to throw it away, get another one....dammit!!! But, it's only an hour or so later. Okay. Buena Suerte, good luck, getting back to sleep now and then, getting up at 3 and getting to work at 6.15 AM.....Wednesday."


"AND NOW @ 3.07 am, the alarm clock rings. I got up a few minutes earlier, got rid of that water that had been bursting the dam, and laid back in bed...just, unmotivated....and then somehow I needed to write to continue this odd story, and sure enough, this time, the alarm rang. Sometimes the hours just don't carry, and I'd been worried that I'd over sleep. Hate being're really in trouble if you don't show, don't call in...big points against your name where I work. A real nazi prison concentration camp. But seriously folks; if you don't like it, you can always leave, right? Any thing? Any place? Any where? Hmmm. I like it all right...just wish, I's doing something else....what I don't know, besides writing...they don't even pay enough for monorail much less me and my writing....
I'm just saying...