Tuesday, April 12, 2016

A Writer

It's not true.  I've tried it.  You can't be sober either, though.  There is a careful balance you must maintain.  Drunks are bad.  Tea-totlers, too.  And never trust someone who does too many drugs.  The life of the creative artist must be well-balanced.  It is hard.  It is really, really hard.

I guess the hating yourself part isn't necessary, either.  It makes for a very different kind of literature, though.  I think writers are people who forgive themselves.

On second or third thought, I don't agree with this cartoon at all.  But I needed a graphic today.  I have been too busy for photography.  It is going on four months since I had a studio now.  It is becoming a fading memory.  I used to think. . . it doesn't matter now what it was I thought.  Here is the reality of it all.  I don't make many pictures any more.  It is the thing I have to live with now.

Although I have another lens waiting for me at the post office.  And that is where I must file my tax extension today.  I almost forgot.  I am the least practical man I know.  Person.  I am the least practical person.

I did not sleep last night.  I had a bad belly and dark, terrible nightmares.  Not nightmares.  End of life things.  Merle Haggard dreams.  I blame it on many things.  I have reached an age where everyone is fat.  It is awful.  I am fat.  I used to have a cute butt.  It looked like two apples on a countertop.  Now it looks like two apples in a plastic bag.  I think this all started yesterday at the gym when I did squats in front of a mirror.  I usually squat on a Smith machine now to save my back, and there is no mirror in front of the Smith machine.  When I squatted in front of the mirror, the view was shocking.  I had no idea.  The image haunts me still.  It certainly did last night.  I had the end of life squat horrors.  Big belly, swizzle stick legs.  I shouldn't do them any more.  I don't look like that just walking around.  It is when I get into that low squat position.  Jesus.  What happened?

And so I will have to function on little sleep today.  Q says he has quit drinking and is losing weight.  Maybe that is my only option.  I guess my writing will suffer though.  You see?  I have become a writer after all.

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