Navigating through the seasons - Page 8

I found out something cool today. I want to read Barroness Elsa: Gender, Dada, and Early Modernity by Irene Gammel. Amazon had it in hardcover for $100, paperback for $50, and used for $30. My friend Emma only had it in a PDF format. The county libraries did not have it but I went down to the local library and got a library card and they are trying to set me up with the book from another library in the USA. If it works that is pretty sweet.

Anti-consumerism is the main thing. Anti-consumerism without losing my mind. I could go to Thailand and be a rice and vegetable farmer and live in a mud hut and fast more days than not but that is not realistic. Just as being a buddhist monk is not realistic. I have to find my own way. Finding a cooler job that pays better is one way. Writing poetry that does not suck is potentially another way. This is mostly if I want to get laid ever again. I actually think being celibate is acceptable but getting laid would be more fun. I have to figure out a way to find stuff to do beyond drinking white tea and posting on LP. The poetry is all well and good. The Bolaño is great. Not all the time though. Following designer brands is pathetic. Fashion always seems to find a way to get the hooks in. I don't really know a way to completely stop this from happening besides hopefully acknowledging when I am in fact eating hooks. Window shopping is pathetic. I've watched every RICK OWENS runway show on YouTube. I still need to wear clothes.

“Let there be a little country without many people. Let them have tools that do the work of ten or a hundred, and never use them. Let them be mindful of death and disinclined to long journeys. They’d have ships and carriages, but no place to go. They’d have armor and weapons, but no parades. Instead of writing, they might go back to using knotted cords. They’d enjoy eating, take pleasure in clothes, be happy with their houses, devoted to their customs.” (Lao Tzu)

I'm not trying to be an ascetic. I would like to take pleasure in clothes.

I do take pleasure in clothes but when is enough enough?

Do I feel like studying?

Not really. Kind of a rough one at work today. Underscheduled and it's really impossible to do the work of two people and I refuse to do the work of two people. If you do too good of a job they'll just continue to under schedule and it's a vicious cycle. The question is will I start applying to other places over this one incident? The answer is no even though I should be applying to other places anyways.

A nap, some white tea, and some mirtazapine and a lot of the tension of the day has melted.

I did some poetry study and now I am just relaxing and listening to some music. A novel is such a huge project. Maybe I should get started with poetry or short stories. The problem is the poetry I am reading is so good it is inspiring yet also discouraging at the same time. At least now I can explain the difference between a stanza and a sonnet. I can even explain the difference between an "Italian sonnet" versus a "Shakespearian sonnet." I am learning!

"144 1234"

All good things must come to an end. I wish to vacay in Paris. Engulf myself in pinot noir in Burgundy. Literally, drown in the stuff.

I may not have any vacays left in me. If I was a billionaire I'd go to Japan and France on a private jet. So, much for my anti-consumerism... It's easy to be relatively anti-consumer when broke. When broke and paying off consumer debt.

Today, there was this really attractive woman paying in cash. When I handed her the change our hands touched. I'm so lonely and now I'm fixating on pinot noir. Back in my drinking days Black Box made a great cabernet sauvignon but not a pinot noir. There were pinot available in boxed wine but most of them weren't great. One could get a pretty good pinot for $10 out of Oregon. I ventured into the $25 range for some really good ones. Not very baller. I did have a Veuve Clicquot habit that cost $60 / bottle at Costco.

What do you do to breathe, to feel, to feel alive? (Stinkfist, Tool)

I have no interest in getting fisted. Although, I did get a blowjob and my prostate fingered by a sex worker while my blood alcohol content % was at .4. I remember that being lovely. She then rode cowgirl without the hands. She was pretty good at what she did.

It's obvious I miss human touch.

And we are tomorrow's dust. A simulated blur. My neighbor's cemetery is taken down and will eventually be Christmas. It will eventually be Christmas. Sooner than we think. Do I want a Digital Drop or a Fender P Bass? I could play the P Bass through a portable 10 W amp and just trash the thing (the amp). A P Bass and a proper amp is a pretty penny. Maybe I will just go with getting some new clothes.... Oh geez, don't get started on clothing...

yup



This song is making me want to fuck around with synthesizers again.

This song is making me want to fuck around with women again.

Synthesizers and women: Two great things in life.

Marketing rules the world.

Anti-marketing is still marketing.

It sucks to be contrarion and wrong but it could be worth the risk of being contrarion and right!

Oh well, nothing matters, let's smoke a bowl, watch HBO, and jerk off to an American Apparel Ad Girl.

I think one thing women want is a hunter. They don't want hunted. They don't want deer in headlights.

Most women are allergic to broke. However, most of us have known a woman that has dated a broke artist. I don't know if I've ever seen it end well. All I have to do is find a woman that likes my painting or my poetry and I am in! It probably won't end well but we all eventually die and it won't matter. Drinking white tea and posting on LP is almost the equivalent of smoking a few bowls and watching HBO and jerking off to American Apparel ad girls. I could spend a lifetime doing it and where would it get me?

There is more revelation in routine than typing all of these journals or maybe it's a close race. I am talking waking up in the morning, taking a shower, getting dressed, eating breakfast, taking a shit, brushing my teeth, driving to work. The revelation is more likely to come in these moments than really trying to fight for it?

Or, maybe I am not fighting for it. I am massing journals to get to somewhere but many times it just brings me back to my journals.

I'd rather be out with a woman, with a friend.

We will die.

We will get old and sick.

I rang up this old woman today. She asked for 2 packs of cigarrettes. She was on one of those motorized carts. Miserable lady - micro-managing every last thing I did when it's like a $50 order. I help her out to her car. She drove a brand new high end Mercedez Benz SUV. It felt like karma that she was infirm but we will all get infirm if we don't die first.

My viking princess was in the gym again today. I was on the pec dec which faces the military press. That was a great mental photograph. Seeing her backside with her braided ponytail down to her erector spinae.

Her erector spinae, her erect clitoris.

I kind of fucked this page up with pictures. Probably best to blast this page with pictures to get to the next page...