I've been writing again. I wrote about 5 pages last night and then about one more today. I'm hoping maybe this might actually be something. Hey, it's not like my life is going anywhere besides down the toilet right now so what do I have to loose? I've been a busy emoitonal wreak lately, which makes it a little hard to pinpoint the bullshit that has made up my last week or so. I'll try.
I'm quiting Lane Bryant as soon as I find the energy to look somewhere else. Still drinking and smoking. The only new territory added to my usual late night schedule is trying to get laid. Which as usual isn't working that well. It's been a month and this is when I start to get a little ansy before I hit month three and then go numb off and on again. I've had one interested fellow alchy, but since the offer was given to me in an employee bathroom at a bar after he had just taken one look at my bush and said, "you could do better," I chose to take a pass. I have a tad bit more dignity than that I think.
My writing is already becoming a challenge. The one person I don't and didn't want to write about is the only person I can write about. I can have deep thoughts about what I'm gonna put on paper later that night and then when it's time, I just write about my dying friend. I'm not complaining because it's fucking something and I've already received a few compliments, but there's nothing there I wanted there right now. No smartass no "in my head" moments, no dirty scenes even, just her in her hospital bed. Which is a shame though really because I have a few funny daddy issue jokes I wanted to throw in. I guess they will just have to wait.
I'm quiting Lane Bryant as soon as I find the energy to look somewhere else. Still drinking and smoking. The only new territory added to my usual late night schedule is trying to get laid. Which as usual isn't working that well. It's been a month and this is when I start to get a little ansy before I hit month three and then go numb off and on again. I've had one interested fellow alchy, but since the offer was given to me in an employee bathroom at a bar after he had just taken one look at my bush and said, "you could do better," I chose to take a pass. I have a tad bit more dignity than that I think.
My writing is already becoming a challenge. The one person I don't and didn't want to write about is the only person I can write about. I can have deep thoughts about what I'm gonna put on paper later that night and then when it's time, I just write about my dying friend. I'm not complaining because it's fucking something and I've already received a few compliments, but there's nothing there I wanted there right now. No smartass no "in my head" moments, no dirty scenes even, just her in her hospital bed. Which is a shame though really because I have a few funny daddy issue jokes I wanted to throw in. I guess they will just have to wait.