I got to work early today, so I took a seat outside and felt as though I reached the other side.
I have to figure it out, so I’m back from work and I’m exhausted, but I’m going to spend some time with keyword searches, a foreign language for me, so I can zero in on what people are searching for to potentially find a niche in the self-publishing world I might be able to tap into — I have to figure out how to make money.
I have to do some research.
I cannot afford a real hair cut, even, it’s terrible. I cannot afford anything right now.
I’m still figuring out how to structure this book (check out my book blog), but I think space is a better strategy than writing. I had a thought today that the first scene at the tennis club is a fine debut because it introduces the central drama, but I might change the order of what comes next.
In scene two, instead of going home with my father and going into my mother’s mirrors right away, I might try and write a scene in the backyard…straight out of the American Dream, I don’t know what that means, but that came to me today.
I’m going to work on the next section tomorrow, as I’m too tired tonight — I went to bed late last night — I’m going to try this speed that along, because I want to be done with this book. I regret becoming a writer. I would have bypassed the guru and the slytherin who came into my life — completely. Waste of my time and youth.
Unfortunately, I got bad news. I wanted to submit a section about Barbara Harris to F(riction), a well known journal, but they closed the submission window early, so they received too many. It’s alright, I’ll still submit it elsewhere, but I’ve been trying to target publications that agents supposedly read.
I have to send musicians tracks to learn as I’m trying to sing.
I have to pick out a monologue for this audition next month.
The open mics are fine, I’m assessing what to do next. I’m trying to move forward… trying to do something with my family story, I guess, but I didn’t want this to be my topic. Why, why? What’s the point? I have only gotten pain, ignored, manipulated, this story brought me no reward. I hate that family became my life, I hate this guru. I want to give up, I usually find a reason to keep going, but oh my God, please, I don’t want it to be my life, and I feel like the past decade was such a waste, that I’m tired and bumping up against this… so… gotta get out.
I’m sad, the bouncer at the place I work asked me why I was sad.
No make up, I smiled.
Not true.
I am not happy at all, but I have to figure it out. I’m just letting that be. When I’m tired, my thoughts can become plagued with someone from the past decade. It’s terrible. It gets better. So it’s the slytherin tonight as I got platonically involved with this past decade I also call the “psychic period.” This relationship went so badly. I mean, he pretended like he liked me, loved me, even, just like my mother actually, to fart on the phone at me after I got out of the hospital. His cruelty reflects him to be trash, not me, but he was a drug addict I met in this plant medicine circle, not really understanding that. He’ll do fucked up shit to you, it’s known. His friend that I know said, “he sometimes treats people in unspeakable ways…” yikes. I didn’t need to get involved with my mother. So in the spirit of evacuating these awful people, I’m concluding my litte blog post with the slytherin, as he came to mind, and it helps to name these forms that plague, literally, my thought process. Less and less.
Like, his friend, this woman, a nurse, I couldn’t tell, but she called me in the middle of the night, strangely, a year ago, though for me it was the middle of the afternoon, but she called and disappeared, claiming she fell asleep again, and she’d never called me, ever. Literally ever. He’s the type of person who would get someone to do something that. It’s a little hard to believe that she would, sort of, but he can actually fuck with people. Even if she was being sincere, there was something about it that reminded me of him. Easy to pass it off. Never heard from her again.
I had to relinquish whether or not I was a good friend, actually, as the slytherin said “you’re a really good friend,” and then, he farted long and hard on the phone. So did he send me that threat through my website at 5 AM? I got this random message sent through my website, no ask, after I had asked for my money back, lawfully, and what happened next is…another story for another day. This weird message impacted me physically in the stomach, and it took years to get back to normal eating, at least a year and a half. I was 93 pounds when I went into the hospital because I couldn’t eat. Afterwards, when I admitted that this message felt intended for me, which I suppose it was regardless of who sent it, but what a strange experience, I could sort of start to eat again. It got better. But that was an ordeal. I had to relinquish as I said whether or not I was a good friend, I thought I was, actually, I just thought, who even gives a crap about the past, I deserve better friends, a better life. I don’t know how I got here, though I do, actually, I just have to keep moving on, so utterly shocked that this where I ended up.
Then add the guru, then add my closest friend wanting to be my actor, manager (when I’m not in that industry), and a political assassin… he thought he would totally kill a politician, he knew which one, ugh. Anyway, I’m going to bed this evening early. But I’m just processing what’s left… I keep turning the page… I have a sort of date next week with a super normal guy, for the love of God, a nice, normal guy. A lawyer. I met nothing but weirdos. Okay, so what can I do, what can I do? To make money? What skills do I have to sell? I was thinking of going into Bellevue and seeing if I could get a job, just thinking about what would actually fulfill me? What would capitalize on my gifts…? Can I figure out a way to make money online? Can I make something, anything, WORK— please. Please. Now, I will sleep, and maybe some idea with flash like lightning, though I have never had that experience.