as of now, 37 hours awake and nothing feels like sleep.
dear god. i’ve never had a manic episode like this. the racing thoughts and weird surges are beyond disturbing. suppose i wasn’t “controlled?” (smirk)
i’m gonna load up on one of the meds and knock myself down. if i can’t function tomorrow, i’ll skip work again and figure out the next step then.
there are times when nothing i do seems to work out.
i try to be a good guy, y’know; i try to make my life fit into my moral code.
the more i look at me, the less i like what i see. controlling, aloof, miserable, not comfortable in my skin.
this is not self pity. self pity is the poor me syndrome.
this is the cold recognition that i am responsible for all my shit. all of it.
poor me? bullshit. hate me. (you too. join in.)
at this stage of my life, you’d figure i’d have this figured out. and now that i look at me, i know better.
for the record, folks, i’m coming to nationals. i had planned to keep it a secret, make it a surprise, but i know better now; all that fucking drama? the joy of a dramatic gesture? bullshit. what ego.
but the NPS is the last place on earth where people still like me and think i’m a good guy. i hope to remember how to be that while i’m there.
for those who are a little freaked by me now: i am sorry. i will be better, i hope.
here are my steps:
therapist tonight. in-patient stint? maybe.
possible leave of absence from work until i settle.
resolve current living situation.
travel to ABQ.
hang moderately, as much as possible.
return and face shit, for real.
and if those are not enough?
well, let us see what shakes out.
still driving, still travelling, still thinking.
quick Kinko’s break for this.
am i ok? who can really say that? i don’t trust anything anymore.
Continue readingi’m taking the day off. hitting the road to think and write.
reachable by cell if you need me.
Continue readingWalk your talk, people. Walk your talk.
Speaking of which, I’m featuring at the Hut.
On September 11.
Doing classwork today.
I hate reading a so-called scholarly text in which there are significant mistakes.
Especially when the text in question has a self-described radical stance, and when the mistake perpetuates a standard stereotype and offers plainly and easily researchable incorrect information.
Grr…
Cheesy laptop is mine.
Ancient, yet serviceable Compaq Armada 7380DMT. Minimal 5 gigs, Pentium II.
Jiggered to run Win2000 and go wireless. Microsoft Office, antiviral stuff, and that’s about it.
175.00 before tax.
Exactly the kind of disposable, minimally functional item I wanted.
The plan now: move the 17″ HP into the role of main PC, pick up another good laptop, and go wireless throughout the house, using this as the road backup for simple access.
sweet enough.
Continue readingamazes me.
I feel like I could easily do another 3-4.
Since I’m driving to NYC tomorrow for the Bar 13 gig, will likely not be at the Asylum tonight…enjoy the NESL show.
Probably will not update again before Tuesday. Busy today; work in the AM; driving down in the afternoon, driving back tomorrow night. See you tomorrow night, NYC!
Hey —
I thought I’d hit y’all in the NYC area with a shameless plug or two.
Monday, July 25: I’ll be at Bar 13, 35 E. 13th St. for a feature with the wonderful Cynthia French and the ever-lovin’ Sock Puppet Slam.
September 28: I’ll be featuring at a reading called “Words of Wisdom” in Park Slope, Brooklyn — I have more details at home and will edit this later.
C’mon by!
When I was eighteen
I had one girlfriend
who wouldn’t put out
and another one
no one knew about
whose nickname was
“Jailbait.”
I was in a good college,
I drove an old Saab,
I tripped on weekends and holidays
and never did anything
obtrusive.
That’s how
I got by:
by practicing
two ways of seeing
need
and gaining
satisfaction;
and that’s how
the books got
cooked.
_____________________________________________________
at work. I’m surviving.
For those of you planning…I’ll be featuring at Bar 13, Union Square, NYC next Monday night.
And for those of you feeling spontaneous…Sou MacMillan (thisrabbit)will be featuring there tonight.
War-town REPREZENT.
T
is standing just over there, mocking me.
there is a bird on its head and it is wearing a cape.
it keeps smiling and shimmering until it can’t be seen. then it’s there again.
I will catch it tomorrow
or perhaps tonight after I close my eyes, so as not to be distracted by its silver and blue.
nights,
T
PS: the left hand box, the one you keep for the bad artifacts. what would I find if I looked in there?
Courtesy of aurorabell I bring you:
The top ten celebrities whose celebrity totally and completely leaves me befuddled.
1. Jim Morrison
2. Ted Nugent
3. Nick Lachey
4. Jessica Simpson (I know– the tits and ass. But that’s hardly novel.)
5. George W. Bush
6. Ann Coulter
7. Tony Brown
8. Wing
9. Bryan Adams
10. Connor Oberst (I think this is as low talent an individiual as I’ve seen in pop music)
Tagged: (come on: fantasies are awesome!):
fuck that. do it if you want. i wanna know if you wanna tell.
