Oh, yeah.
My fucking head.
Can one just be temporarily dead for a while? Like, skip me a few years until this neo-fascist bullshit is over?
Thanks.
Target: 900 words
Written: 749 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Robinson Crusoe, Daniel Defoe
Comics: 100 Bullets: Lono 1-4
Music: Upstairs At Eric's, YazLike, let the world burn.
I’m just going to write and read and figure out how to be happy.
Maybe I’ll get it by the time I die of old age.
Maybe I’ll die before then and never know, but then, at least it will be over.
Target: 900 words
Written: 832 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Hepatitis Bathtub And Other Stories, NOFX
Comics: 100 Bullets 89-92
Music: Up To Here, The Tragically Hip (fucking seminal, man - if Gord Downie is ever outed as a rapist or racist or whatever, I will lose all faith in humanity.)The knowledge that we’re about to plunged into a hellscape has made me withdraw a little.
I was hoping we were finally done with these assholes, but nope. At least another four years (and who knows how much longer because the fuck wants to do away with elections) of them.
So, I’m taking a break. I’ve got probably a month or less before I’ve got a presentable version of The Mungk (at least, that’s the target). I’m going to focus on that for now before rejoining the fight in the only way I know how.
Writing, and not being a complete piece of shit.
I mean, I’m a little turd, but maybe there’s some leftover corn in me?
Anyway, not a total piece of shit, like those guys.
Fuck ’em. Fuck ’em forever.
Target: 900 words
Written: 331 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Hepatitis Bathtub And Other Stories, NOFX
Comics: 100 Bullets 85-88
Music: Up On The Sun, Meat PuppetsI mean, it’s not horrible today. I’m tired still, and there’s still some guck in my throat, but other than that, it’s not terrible.
The coughing has stopped. The sinus headache has dissipated into the air.
I’d like to disappear into the air.
Who knows where I’d land?
Target: 900 words
Written: 640 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Shining, Stephen King
Comics: 100 Bullets 69-72
Music: Unsupervised, Mono PuffI hope.
I still have an annoying tickle and my nose is a little stuffy, but otherwise, I seem to be beyond the worst of it.
Mostly, I’m just glad it’s not COVID.
Even though my experience with COVID wasn’t terrible (annoying cough for a couple of days), the tiredness never really seemed to leave.
That could be for entirely different reasons, however.
One never really knows. I only hope the afterlife is filled with answers.
That’s all I really want, at this point.
Target: 900 words
Written: 203 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Shining, Stephen King
Comics: 100 Bullets 57-60
Music: Unreleased Album, Screaming Trees (so underrated, these guys - Lanegan's brilliant)It still sucks, but at least, the running, drippy bullshit is mostly over.
Now, it’s annoying cough, hey, thanks for joining the party. Did I introduce you to plugged ears?
No?
Well, here, you two will get along swimmingly. Perhaps we can entice fever over for a little menage-a-trois?
No? Not yet? Just the tip?
Is delirium a cold symptom? Asking for a friend.
Target: 900 words
Written: 152 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Shining, Stephen King
Comics: 100 Bullets 53-56
Music: Never Worked That Hard, The Tragically HipLike my whole life, I am plugged up. Stuck. Caught in a relentless onslaught that packs behind my skull and makes it impossible to hear or breathe.
I sweat.
Blow my nose, more comes. Autoreplicating, instantaneous snot, filling every inch of headspace.
Ears pounding, I cannot hear.
I am on a subway; I am underwater.
I am cold, and yet, simultaneously, the boiling man.
I am man-baby, trying not to let on that I suffer, while suffering audibly.
To bed, to bed.
Illness is weakness; no, to work.
Target: 900 words
Written: 507 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Shining, Stephen King
Comics: 100 Bullets 49-52
Music: Cutthroat, Interpol (could I?)And I’m sick. Runny, plugged nose (funny how these two opposite things go together so well when it comes to the common cold).
I don’t know where it came from, but probably karma.
Probably fucking karma.
Fuckin’ karma.
Target: 900 words
Written: 201 words, novella: The Mungk
Reading: Hunter Of Worlds, C.J. Cherryh
Comics: 100 Bullets 45-48
Music: The Unraveling, Rise Against (certainly seems that way)I’m not sure what was going on with Sofi, but it felt like she woke at least twenty times last night, moving around and cuddling up and pushing away and just generally being a pain in the butt.
Plus, the LEDs on the new mini-splits we got to heat our house (which work great as coolers, less as heaters) seemed very bright. I don’t know what was going on.
Things conspire to rob me of my rightful rest.
Great, now I sound like some long dead hero or evil god in a fantasy novel.
Torak, am I.
Ironic that the guy writing a whole book on the darkness of night should find himself more disturbed by unrelenting blue light.
Target: 900 words
Written: 358 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Wishsong Of Shannara, Terry Brooks
Comics: Die 13-14, Once And Future 11-12
Music: Live Things I Found On My Computer, Red Hot Chili Peppers (I should explain - at one point, I had a shit ton of bootleg stuff laying around. It was all labelled and such, but then, MICROSOFT AND APPLE, and something happened to rename all of them to 4 random letters, stripping them of all metadata. It sucked, and while I've put the names of the songs on them, I have no idea where they came from, just the song and the band names.)I feel like my body is about to burst from my skin, and yet, the only thing I want to do is sit and stare blankly.
Being a vegetable seems cool to me, somehow.
I worry I might be a bad person; on the other hand, maybe I don’t give a shit.
Target: 900 words
Written: 328 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Club Dead, Charlaine Harris
Comics: The Wicked + The Divine 40-41, Die 1-2
Music: Live Shit, Green Day