Friday, May 30, 2008

Another Thursday

In the morning when I wake up I can still taste the smoke in my mouth, the sweet leaves that were burned by the Droogs as another Cthulu Cthursday came and went. I take a deep breath and try hard to remember the bottles that passed through my hand. They seemed to be as legion as our troupe hopes to become and if my memory serves, I drank each of them to the dregs.

I idly pass my hand over the white carpet of the floor I slept on and find a bottle of water close by which I drink greedily. I may not believe in him, I tell myself, but I think Old Tentacles may just believe in me.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

More Discontent

I am now flat fucking broke and, having been spied by my mother's moral compass, was forced by means of guilt and shame to throw out a perfectly good bottle of gin. Will the atrocities ever end?

Work is underway, at least, and I am grateful for it. Keighdee purchased some reading material to get me back to work and it is helping tremendously. Getting The Words Right and How Not To Write A Novel are slowly teaching me to have more dexterity in my fingers and to draw my ideas more fluidly. I'm hoping that they are the final push I need to make this a reality. Heres to possibility.

Monday, May 5, 2008

In Like A Lamb

The reading went well, I suppose. I figure that the people who were there did not heckle me afterward so that must have been a good sign.

I really have very little to report. the summer has began and already I wish it would end or start for real or something. I am without keighdee, without hours at the track and without liquor. I basically sailed to an island and burned the ship when I hit sand. My brothers are nearby, one of the few perks, and I'm sure we will figure something out. Maybe I just need to spend less time at home and more time out finding a fucking hobby.

I've been drowning in GTA4 the last week or so. I picked it up at launch on a whim and decided that it might be the most entertaining game I have played since COD4. It is also still shiny and new, so we will see what happens when the veneer is dulled. At this moment I am satisfied just to shoot hookers from a distance and collect the cash they drop like a suburban pirate. I'm not sure how muhc longer I can stalk from building to building with my desert eagle, but I'm thinking I can do it for at least another month.

Writing has been nonexistent since my return to the city. There is no space for me to think, no place for me to delve into anything in a serious manner. I basically live in the zoo and the elephants are eating the pages. I hope it changes but I'm slowly recognizing this summer as a huge problem for anything creatively productive.