standing on the write

Sure, it’s a small promise, but does that excuse me from following through on my word?

Write more.

Am I that empty inside, that dull, that blank as to not have anything to say at all ? Hell no. Wake up, flux.

Perhaps I’ve just gotten lazy, or out of practice, or dissatisfied with what now goes down on these “pages”; yet I keep telling myself that I want to write more, and there is no question there, I do – but I still find it difficult to get my shit together and actually follow through with it.

Way back when, when the road and the adventures were the veins and arteries and the incredible people I met were the blood that coursed through me, when even the smallest thing could become something beautiful to write about, I did, and wrote well enough for me to be content with the words that were put down – but I’ve gotten far out of practice, and it’s time to come back.

It will certainly be an uphill battle, as I didn’t have the medication to fight against back then, but it will be well worth the struggle… and even if some of what comes out is pure crap, hopefully the level of crap will become less & less as I follow through with the promise I made to myself.

It’s said that two wrongs don’t make a right – but how many does it take to make a write?

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3:00 am

Thanks to some great friends, last night I was able to move Alice to a safe place until I am able to leave this one.
She now calls the American Steel building home, where I’ll be able to work on her when I can, and she’s off the street – so her getting towed is one thing I don’t need to worry about anymore.

My health… my health is a frustrating game, my Doctors & I trying to beat it but not making much progress, it seems.I must admit that it;s driving me crazy.

The first month I lost 25lbs- all of that weight was being carried around in my legs, slowly seeping out anywhere it could. There was promise back then, but now, we’re just trying one thing after another looking for a way to fix me. Though I miss her, ifI were attempting to do all of this while living in my motorhome like before, it would be much more difficult. Here at Maitri they watch me almost too closely, to the point where there is no privacy – but I must admit at the same time it’s nice to be able to keep close tabs on any differences that the things we try do.

Tired now, going to read and hopefully get some sleep. With tomorrow/today being Thanksgiving, I know I’ll need all the energy I can dredge up to tolerate it.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.

 

 

feeble words of nod

{{{ “Will you just friggin’ write already? You’re driving yourself crazy by not doing so, and each day that passes makes it harder to begin again. You know this, so let’s get going, okay, ya putz?”

“Yeah, I know, but…”

“But nothing. Shut up and start writing.”

“About what?”

“Doesn’t matter. Anything. You used to be able to, and there’s no reason you can’t do it now – but you better hurry before the meds kick in. Don’t worry about making it all pretty – you’re writing for you.”

“Yaah, you’re right – but it’s hard, and I already feel the meds knocking my ass out. There should be an extra warning on this crap – “Do Not Take Before Attempting To Write”

‘

Fuck it. I need to put at least something down. Anything. Get going with the writing again…

‘

Today another dental appointment, where all of the teeth on the bottom left were yanked. I was supposed toget them all ripped uwI swear, they’re drawing this out SO damn long it;s driving me crazy. Another goddamn month before I get the last group finally pulled, and then about three weeks or so to heal – and then, at long last, I get some new chompers!

‘

Okay, It actually took about 10 minutes to write the past two sentences, goddamn pain pills – but at least ai have something started to follow, no more excuses for not writing.

JEEBUS, really time to say g’night – I’m waking myself up by answering the people in my little nod-off dreams out loud. Weird. sending this to the aether while I can

uninspired

All I need is the first line, and the rest will come. The words will begin flowing like they’re supposed to, like they want to, and…

I brought Clotho out to the smoking patio to brave the cold with me, dressed in the general uniform of this place – a robe, pajamas & slippers, but don’t think this will last too much longer…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Back inside now, to my room all cozy, warm, & uninspiring.

I blame it on the room.

I blame it on the lack of anything exciting in my immediate outside world…

I could write about my health, but I’m horribly weary of that – it’s all that is focused on each and every day, with little or no progress.

I need alternative medicine – acupuncture, herbs, anything but this not so merry-go-round of medication & guessing. Treat the symptom but not the cause. When my legs start healing they say I’m doing great – but it comes back, each time worse it seems. It is.

They say it’s the liver but I have my doubts, serious doubts, for many different reasons – but that’s the easy answer. I have Hep-C so it’s the liver.

Maybe, maybe not.

My eyes are starting to close against my will.Time for another drug nap…

into the wild…

 

The departure time approaches, the excitement, mixed with a bit of trepidation (and a few pain pills) builds. It’s been over a month, ever since I moved in here, that an adventure quite like this has happened; alone, braving being around the strange beings that I see when I occasionally look out the portals of this place.

Over familiar yet unforgiving terrain, underneath thousands of inches of Sea; mentally I’m up for the task, I’ve prepared. No eye contact, just keep walking and hope my legs do my bidding well enough to return me here safely. I will leave a trail of dead flesh and bright red hair & thankfully my telephone is again working if by chance I need it for a final lifeline – or farewell.

I look at the time & notice that I have no more for these musings, there are things that need to be done, and if I am late, the world will not forgive.

The wrath of the street sweeper will strike, and strike hard.

With one final gust of breath to blow the dead skin off of my computer, I shut the lid – and am off to Berkeley to move Alice.