Ow

I do know how I feel isn’t intended. . . .

Two things!

I have to not blog too hard on a big ole topic to me because, I have a life it can’t be traced right now

But I truly appreciate that a lesson it’s treating me is to not get caught in one little box.  Some are attractive to get fixated by, some are CAPTIVATING to thought, despite being disgustipating. (You know, those insipid, aggravating issues and ideas in life that take all yer thought and time.)

And, there’s always a bigger picture.  In business, a bigger vision, scheme, opportunity, option, and it may take a lil creativity to figure out your best solution but life is always worth enjoying whenever possible, and it’s usually possible.  Sometimes it takes a lil grit, patience, boat or bar hopping, whatever. But seriously, don’t compromise yer inner bamf just to stay within a tiny box. That’s all I’ll say for now.

Two:

I’ve felt really affected by this random statement that the difference between a dream and a goal is a plan.

With that being said, I’m sick of the dreamy whiny wannabe that I’ve been acting as for the last year, and while I’ve had random set-backs (dying grandma is legit. Imma relax about that Weds) I’m planning to write on harder than I plan to marathon. This means 2.5 hours a day. Tomorrow I’m gonna figure out the when and how that I can do that. As in, if it’s possible to arrange it around 11am that’ll be ideal, otherwise, i’ll really have to stop indulging myself at home for a while the way I do (food n drink are wonderful, but counterproductive when you wanna keyboard jockey, honestly)

Phase 1: Complete this round of disjuncture edits- this involves killing my darlings.  I am about to murder one.

Phase 2: Send batch of queries with updated diminished word count.  I’m sure I can get at least 15% down if I’m really abrasive with myself.

Phase 3: Bahamut.  Synopsis – and then I wanna get to the part where I murder all the things. Or where the tattooed guru write snakebites R2D2 orochimaru style.

(That’s one of my callings.  Making statements like that have context.)

I also wonder if there’s any way to get more of that pre-workout reasonably.  That shieza really did make me wanna wordspew.

*haz warm fuzzy wishes for the world*

This place is only good for the articles anyway

http://www.playboy.com/articles/azealia-banks-playboy-photos

I like that I like her without agreeing with everything she says. It’s cause she comes from some place.

You’re at this thing and think

Like, dat voice

(Yes btw)

But then pick up on that gurl who’s all like:

which is like a good start, even tho at first she’s into herself like

and you get these vibes, cause you end up talking to her and she eyes you like you’re delicious and the next thing you know you two get deep into it and somehow it’s odd and then it’s all awesome like

and it’s like, alright, I bet you have plenty to be sorry about, meg

and she’s all like, yeah, well

and you’re like, “Really? . . .Any which way”

and she’s all like “ohyawell:

and you’re all like :-X

and she’s like “Yeah . . ”

and you’re all like “you’re not a monster you’re just special, Meg.”

and she’s all like yeah, whatevs.

And then eventually you both just have a day full of the right kind of shared yeah

and go home after and realize

And that’s just another reason why Meg Myers should be my ex girlfriend.

(Ok, that’s not exactly why, but the songs are awesome.)

I’ve sent dem queries. Proofread a million times. Only to agents I’ve researched and have something personal to say about. As per their exact submission guidelines.

This does not mean I’m an overnight success, but bam.

Fuck you drama.

Will send more

And I lurv her for it.

In one of those dynamics where I want to shake another and go “LISTEN YOU’RE HURTING THIS WHEN YOU DO THIS.”  I’m sure I make other people feel this way also, it’s just,

you know, people do this thing where they say what they think should be said.  And I talk a bigt talk, but in the end, also know words don’t mean nearly as much as action. Words are used to negotiate, but the way one swims really makes all the difference and tells you how one’ll move in what’s current.

I lurv swimming.

This’s one reason why office games make me   Teaches one to believe what’ll be when you see what is. So, I don’t believe in future promises. I believe in earned respect and trust. It’s a lot better than people who seem nice, or people who propose nice things.

Fucking, professionally nice people man. They make you trust less.

And now I’m doing this thing where I try and figure out again, when it’s appropriate to be nice, and when one is better off going “fuckit” and setting sparks that might turn into bridgeburners. In those situations it’s likely better to swim swim sweeeem. Contributing positive energy comes at a loss of self respect otherwise.

People should not expect me to reciprocate or create happy sunshine energy when they’re chopping down the woods all around me.  It applies to rajeev.  It implies to treating me with doubt and mistrust, but then being less reliable yerself.  Also, my sister is literally in a metal construct hurtling through the sky to approach nyc because of updates that happened as of last night, and I should still come up with a fantastic synopsis.

So you know,

good morning interwebz.

Well, this is life.

This isn’t about me, and I’m going to put mine aside for a second.

I have my query letter literally read to hit send to my most favorite agent. The copy paste is right on the other computer monitor.  The gmail is open with the address and inclusions in it.  Lookit the word, see?

I also edited and reformated a totally sendable MS, and was even going to share the updated, CLEAN, much needed edited, and I think it’s finally edited and FINISHED edited, first 60 pages of disjuncture, to friends.

But my father called.  And I picked it up thinking honestly, it couldn’t be something that’ll stop me now

but it was

the man sounds horrible

broken sentences because my grandmother is in the ER, right now.

I don’t think I’ve heard him sound like that ever.

He doesn’t sound optimistic at all, and my old man is a cynical but realistic man. Atm I’m glad I’ve visited grand ma, and I’m waiting for the aunt to pick me up.

This does take priority, I’ve waited months and months to do tonight’s work, and it can at the very least, wait a few more hours.

Edit: Tired. She’s actually much better than it sounded, and’ll be alright for many more hours.  But then they’ll be giving her a treatment that might kill her. Sis’s flying in from chicago tomorrow and my head’s just a little bit more in a cloud already. I hate the drama. Doing this thing where I’m drinking a lil tequila and talking with old friends online, but in the back of my head is a bit of a negative buzz. I’ve gotta do that I can, and also go with my gut on a few things. Screw plaster.

I guess I’m sensitive if people pull my name and actions through mud.

This is a big thing to me in the end. I’ve lost friends from this because I’ve simply felt that they aren’t friends, and cut’em after that couldn’t own up to it within days.

(I’m not saying it’s cool to be whimsical like that either.  That might be sad.)

But it’s a negative behavior, and I’ll not to do it myself, consulting with others with an issue that may or may not have some legitimacy, but telling it with a spin shouldn’t be acceptable behavior. That is shit talking.  It’s different than stating the facts of what a person’s actions are, and making a distinction between your feelings and the events.

That’s how to avoid being like fox news in your daily recap.

I do believe that, true friends should be careful about the names and reputations of their friends. You’re really just a person playing games with other’s interactions the moment you use it to take higher-ground in the eyes of others, and, you’re not on the same team the second you make that distinguishing exaggeration.

E’rrybody, be good.

Eric old chap, you are quite capable of vast verbiage and hitting the send button too soon!

(Its also weird that you prefer a text pad on the phone more than a pen and paper today)

Bads, or dumb-dumbs, (I haven’t decided on my technical term for them yet) make great people more cynical when taken seriously.

I was going down stairs to take the train home today, that’s one of my more liberated moments in the day nowadays, and it was a heavy flow of pedestrian traffic – so the stairs were being laned into people going up and down stairs.  I was in the downstairs lane.  And this kid, probly was about 8, ran up next to some party, right in front of me, and just stood there.  I was forced to stop, couldn’t go left, back, right, and he was just being an oblivious dumb kid.

Now, I’m a suited out 6’4 guy and this’s a busy intersection in nyc and it’s 5 turdy, and this’s a dick-heighted kid who’s too oblivious to realized there’s literally 15 people he’s inconveniencing. So I sternly sez, “Watch it! Watch it!”

This’s someone else’s kid, and I wish that he was being watched better.

Now he sort of gets out of my way, and NOW an older sister pulls him aside, but as he does so he says “YOU WATCH IT.”

And like . . . lol.  I was.  Obviously I’m more aware than this 8-12 year old. But now I’m surprised he’s a turd and this’s his attitude instead of the “Sorry” I would’ve had. NYC ped-traffic rules, kid’s a lil shit.

So I keep walking, because, I’ve gots to get home baby, but I turn to him and go “Are you serious?”

and now HE seems surprised that I’m talking back.  And he looks at me, and FROWNS, it’s almost comical, he FROWNS, so miserably, and goes “YEAH!” that it’s like a pantomime of a kid playing a tough guy. Now I feel like someone’s been teaching him how to be an asshole.

And I won’t lie, now I wanted to thwock him on the head. If this was my kid, I’d have kitty-bopped him. Straight up. But this isn’t my kid, and this’s someone else’s lil bag of poo. And again, I’ve got homes to be babeh 🙂

So I just say “Man, lookit you, you’re SO TOUGH. I’m super impressed.” and I walk on.

And y’know, maybe that was dumb. If I got under his skin, which if we’re being honest here whitespace, I wanted to (go me, I’m trying to get under the skin of an 8 year old. Ain’t I a champ?) I could see that jeer helping him to rationalize being an asshole when he actually IS feeling tough, later in life.

And, this’s part of why I’m crazy, and need the first line of this entry as a pearl of wisdom to apply to all situations: dumb-dumbs make you more cynical if taken seriously.  (And being too cynical makes you a dumb-dumb, cause then no one should take you seriously.) Cause I was actually rewiring my future actions in my head and priming myself so I was more likely to try and teach the kid a lesson rather than jeering, by saying “listen kid, if you wanna act like a lil turd, society will definitely treat you like a lil turd right back.”

But, ya know, on the other hand being able to say the right thing ISN’T as important as say, moving forward.

Cause any new yorker knows, the kid’s a dumb-dumb.

No need to be a bigger dumb-dumb.