Tuesday, July 21

first post that is not a poem or update

I have put up 53 posts, counting this one, since I became leatherized. It is raining very hard right now. I was feeling lonely, because one of my friends is out of the state and the other one is at work. I thought about going to the bar tonight. That might be fun, I thought about taking someone home and them thinking that my house is messy. I wouldn't make them wait outside in the rain while I cleaned, though. That would be rude. I know I will be the only one coming home from that bar though, so I don't really need to worry. I just decided to open a cherry coke and smoke a cigarette.

Anyways, as I was going to say, 53 posts in, feeling lonely, raining, I thought- hey I will look at the statcounter and see what is going on. Maybe I will feel less lonely. Nope, not today. I have about thirty visits from four people or so over the last three days. I know that summer is the slower, and hits are down, but goddamm. The numbers were so low, it surprised me.

If we didn't live in a digital age I may have been a monkler by now. I would go off and monkle in solitude.

I hate this post, I wish it was an update or a poem.

I quit my job landscaping a short while ago, I cannot get another job, despite trying.

I like the way my dog is sitting with it's front paws touching my feet.

I really want to delete this post, but I am denying myself.

It is like when I really want to follow a sexual urge, but I know it will be emotionally damaging in the long run, so I hold off, and don't say anything.

Sometimes I am willing to enter emotionally damaging situations, other times, it doesn't interest me.

The world at large is mindboggling. Alot of people I know want to ignore most things that are actually important in terms of quality of life and mental health, and I understand that, I do that. But it gets really bad. There is alot of small awareness and mental instability that tries to feel more stable by throwing any other, particularly intimate others, out of whack.

I was thinking about Sam Pink talking about books not changing anything for him. I will say this publically, getting books out there is that much better than never hearing again whenever you send a book out. It kicks the ass of putting things in emails and never hearing from them again. Or mailing them in large or medium sized envelopes and never hearing again. That shit just powersup the attitudes offered in general, from the general you. And really it is okay, but it is worse than having someone believe in what you are doing enough to publish it. I am resigning to the fact that I will continue to try for my entire life, and always be under and quieter. That is fine, I will never stop, I can do some things I wanted to do through books on the internet. I think. I guess all I mean is that rejection from most angles in life is better than rejection from most all angles.

I am embarrassed or something. I refuse to delete.