Picture that in Jasper’s voice from The Simpsons. There’s a big one coming tonight, which means no sleep again when Sofi loses her shit.
I need sleep. Desperately.
I’m so tired.
So tired of everything. And everyone.
Target: 800 words
Written: 559 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Grimm's Fairy Tales, Grimms
Comics: Twig 4-5, Image! 5-6
Music: Live Things, Rolling Stones (so much Stones)This weekend, we’ll dive deeper on the whole “ask forgiveness, not permission” thing, but for now, today, it’s migraine o’clock with a full work day ahead of me.
The seventh draft begins, like a seventh seal broken, and things can only go down from here.
Target: 800 words
Written: 259 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Tao Te Ching (Ursula Leguin edition)
Comics: Middlewest 15-18
Music: Live Things, NirvanaI’ve been tracking my blood pressure for a bit now, trying to figure out if I’m about to have a stroke or an aneurysm or heart attack or something fun like that.
I’ve started noticing a rise whenever I’m in the office. I’m not eating differently, not really, so that’s not really a factor. If anything, because there’s more walking involved, I’m getting more exercise.
Is there an inherent level of stress involved in any work that isn’t soul work that automatically puts our health at risk?
I think we’d be hard pressed to say no.
Motherfuckers.
Target: 800 words
Written: 734 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: 'Salem's Lot, Stephen King
Comics: Middlewest 3-6
Music: Again With The Live Stuff, Iggy PopI’m looking forward to the end, I think. I don’t want it to come until I’ve met all my goals, but I think it might be a relief.
The hope is that I don’t lose the ability to do all this stuff before I go, or turn into some mediocre shade.
Or worse, give up.
Fucking suffering, fucking with a purpose. Endless pleasure and a cacophony of orgasm is the end goal, after we get through all the awkward and uncomfortable talk about whether it’s okay to kiss or hold hands.
We’ll get to the kink when it’s time to spice things up, I suppose.
Target: 800 words
Written: 191 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh (I might even finish this, finally)
Comics: Bully Wars 5, I Hate Fairyland 1-3
Music: Random Covers, NirvanaTook a trip up to Haileybury, just for giggles and beer.
Not that we were booze cruising. I’m just an aficionado of food and drink, from greasy spoon to Michelin star, from lagers to merlot and back again to scotch and cigars.
I don’t know why. I know it’s all bad for you.
But not in moderation.
And in moderation, we do fine.
Of course, kimchi burger, a stout and later, a bison burger and an IPA may not be the moderation we seek.
Oh, well.
It could also be the coward’s method of self-harm. A slow motion death, in concert with the rest of the planet.
Anyway, it has been beautiful here, despite the family fights, the neighbour fights, the complete lack of downtime or quiet moments to read more than a handful of pages and constant activity in our cabin.
I want to walk into the woods and stay there, but I am ill prepared. I am no outdoorsman.
I wouldn’t last ten minutes.
Target: 800 words
Written: 865 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh
Comics: The Crow: Pestilence 1-4
Music: Random Music, again - Pearl Jam, The Rolling Stones, Todd Snider, SpacehogI couldn’t do it. Didn’t even try it. With my blood pressure being so out of whack and my concerns of having a stroke partway up, I chose not to climb to the top of the fire tower, as in years past. The goal, hopefully, is next year.
Perhaps, if I lose another dozen pounds and get back to the weight I was when I did it the last time, maybe there’s a shot.
I don’t need the aneurysm.
I don’t need the heart attack.
I don’t need the stress of forcing myself to do something that could kill me with no appreciable gain.
I just need to be in the outdoors, in love.
Target: 800 words
Written: 546 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Brothers Of Earth, C.J. Cherryh
Comics: The Crow v2 6-9
Music: Universally Speaking, Red Hot Chili PeppersI mean that literally. It’s possible for someone to just die from lack of sleep, right?
Like, too many half-nights, no naps, no drowsing in the recliner while watching Frasier or the latest Yellowstone, right?
(By the way, how great is Kelly Reilly? Whatever one might think about her character’s behaviour, one must recognize what a terrific character it is, and what a great job she’s doing with it. The show can meander a little bit and doesn’t always seem to have an organic forward purpose, but capturing the endless anger of the tragically damaged, and how that can simultaneously mix with little bits of good, and absolutely vindictive evil, she does a great job.)
Anyway, dying from lack of sleep and heartburn. That’s me.
Over here.
Dying.
Target: 700 words
Written: 916 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Elfstones Of Shannara, Terry Brooks
Comics: Symmetry 7, Postal 15, Eden's Fall 2, Romulus 1
Music: Under Attack (B-Sides), Linkin ParkOr your colon. Or your horoscope.
Things are going bad to worse. I’ve been awake since three in the morning; a casualty of our rat terrier’s deathly fear of storms.
She’s from Texas, originally, which means she likes heat, spicy food and hates fucking storms, because I’m guessing she’s been through a few.
We don’t know the details of her background prior to our rescue; there’s been hints that it was a total hoarder situation, followed by a neglectful situation involving asshole kids.
My gut told me we needed her. Her gut tells me she can’t live without me.
She is my shadow. I am her helicopter parent.
We are in love.
My gut tells me, this one is going to hurt, when it finally comes, almost as much as the Pyrenees.
Or worse.
Target: 700 words
Written: 734 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Elfstones Of Shannara, Terry Brooks
Comics: Postal 13-14, Symmetry 6, Eden's Fall 1
Music: Uncle Anesthesia, Screaming TreesOne night of sleep down. Now, for more. Many more, all in a row. Broken up by the occasional sudden noise, the caught breath, the whispers suggested beneath the steady hum of a blurring fan.
Is that noise? Music?
Someone talking?
What was that creak? Is it the dogs? Is that lump a dog beside me?
Sudden kisses, licks of the face, a French touch unexpected, smelling of licked assholes.
Reassurance.
There is love where there is no noise.
There is no sleep where there are licks.
Target: 700 words
Written: 372 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Pawn Of Prophecy, David Eddings
Comics: The Tithe 3-4, Postal 5-6
Music: Ultimate Survivor, Survivor (again, why?)I don’t know how I did it today.
I nearly fell asleep about eight hundred times (roughly, give or take a couple hundred).
I need sleep.
Please, let me sleep.
Nothing is right.
Target: 700 words
Written: 407 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Pawn Of Prophecy, David Eddings
Comics: Postal 3-4, The Tithe 1-2
Music: Ultimate Collection, The Who