Sunday, January 17, 2010

What I Really Want

SUN. JAN. 17th, 2010
Don't know how or why it was to me my way of thinking a bad idea to take a shower this morning. Feel so good. Cue Chuck
Mangione muzak. Maybe we should just pee now and meditate. Ah yes. But really, trouble is, don't want to do any thing, not even drive away from here. Certainly don't want work at same place where we've been all this time. Don't know what I want. Don't know as I could have slept in much longer than I had. Don't know that I was or am any more glad happy satisfied for any thing that I have. I am so grateful thankful indebted etc esp sic my mother for protecting taking care of me. My sister my dad as well. I'm overwhelmed by grief and hope and worthlessness. Don't know exactly what to say or do. Maybe I can write about it, put it into a story that appears out of me soon, much like the shopping mall story where the man's head went down with a ker-klunk, the screenplay and short work of prose out of it that is Rats With Wings.
What's on my list? Gaa, I dunno. I've done it, but haven't made a full time career of writing, the arts, the movies. I've been in and have worked on many. Yeah. I have. And so...but nothing long term and or making profit creating nest egg, etc.
What I want to do where I want to go involves flushing toilets cleaned by me on a regular basis but not under duress. Pockets full of nice shiney clean expertly working new then because they're taken care of, old things, but are still rich cool expensive good but never boastful or bragging about. Clean well lighted places, yes, Hem. For books or living. And I want to be in and feel to be a part of.
Would love to learn how to survive in the wild, but wouldn't want to have to now or forever have to be roughing it in a real way, forever. Sorry Sam (uel Langhorne Clemons).
Don't...I don't want to say I do not any more. I want to be able to say, I have an ISBN or 8, and glow in the dark legible watches. Eyes that don't bother me. A girl that doesn't either, but HELPS, in a good way. (WAYS) I want things I have to do, doing done. No grief angst misery protracted nonsense from elements of society weather universe. Or the cast iron stainless poly-carbonate diamond whatever constitution to endure, the faith of a Brazil Nut in sitting meditating with my vision to get it done, forever.
{{From Unit # 9630}}

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