Hit 161/107 last night.
That ain’t great.
It’s come down a bit since, but it’s still rollin’.
Pounding headache, all it would take it one spike for brain death.
I don’t want to die. Not yet.
I would like this to stop.
I’m eating better. Exercising. And it’s getting worse.
Target: 1100 words
Written: 920 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Amatka, Karin Tidbeck
Comics: The Maxx 16-19
Music: Ignition, The OffspringAm I spelling that right?
Apparently, they suck.
Target: 1100 words
Written: 1444 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Amatka, Karin Tidbeck
Comics: The Max 12-15
Music: If You Want Blood, You've Got It, AC/DC (I will defend this choice to the death - for popcorn bands that are actually right into what they do and not just posturing, there's no band like them)I’m thinking a lot about what’s evil and what is not.
I’ve just written a four issue comic series, a western based on revenge, which begins typically enough for the kind of spaghetti western I’m basing it on, but takes a wild turn at the end of the first issue (unrevealed future plot twist).
I’m a little worried it pushes me into territory I’m not comfortable representing.
That is, like Get Back Again, I’m concerned some right wing fuck is going to take it and construe it as pro-bigotry or worse, in this case, pro-life.
But that’s not what it’s about (and I’m very pro-choice); it’s similar to The Mungk in that it’s about trauma, and how it can shape us for the worse, until the evil that’s been done to us becomes us abusing ourselves, and maybe others, in ways we never would otherwise.
It’s also about whether evil can be used for good, sometimes?
It’s about guilt and remorse and self-hatred.
Because listen, I know more than a few women who’ve been through it, and despite what the right wing would have you think, most of them did not behave as though they were tossing a used Kleenex.
Most of them were genuinely distressed, upset, even traumatized by it. Not one of them didn’t have strong feelings about it, even if they didn’t want to say it out loud. It was clearly visible on their face and in their eyes.
The other thing that I know about it is that not one of them has ever said they would make a different choice. They don’t regret the choice, even if there’s still remorse.
Like putting down a terminally ill pet; it sucks, you hate it, it makes you weep for days, but even years later, if asked, you’ll say it was the right thing to do.
Anyway, thoughts and feelings on this day; I can’t imagine what the poor women go through.
Even if this case, it’s a little more… extreme.
Target: 1000 words
Written: 720 words, comic: Western Cradle #4
Read: Tropic Of Kansas, Christopher Brown
Comics: Preacher 57-59, Preacher: Tall In The Saddle 1
Music: I Know What You Did Last Summer Soundtrack, VariousIt’s been five weeks since I was there, and it still sucks.
Man, do I ever prefer my cozy home office. One can practically feel the stress melting away when I think of it. Plus, I can get more done on breaks and lunches; I don’t have to try and jam it all in before I leave for work or after I get home. It’s like gaining an hour a day.
My writing only takes roughly that; it’s a great time to do laundry or dishes or prep a meal.
Why anyone would ever want to be in an office in this day and age, if they didn’t absolutely have to…
Fucking ridiculous.
(Plus, I’m actually more productive at home; I’ve too much social anxiety to like sitting in a crowd all day).
Target: 1000 words
Written: 370 words, comic: Western Cradle #4
Read: Tropic Of Kansas, Christopher Brown
Comics: Preacher 45-48
Music: I Have A Pony, Steven WrightThe Christmas party of my former place of employment, which drove me to the brink, out of my mind, and into crippling debt in trying to think there was a way out of it all.
My wife still works there. It’s still awful.
On the plus side, they fired a bunch of people, so it looks like they’re paring down to sell.
So, maybe ten years of this annual reminder of workplace PTSD can be fucking done.
But not yet.
Target: 1000 words
Written: 242 words, comic: Western Cradle #4
Read: Tropic Of Kansas, Christopher Brown
Comics: Preacher 41-44
Music: I Fought The Law, Green DaySome days, it feels like a war of attrition (and we’re not talking about the cold now).
It’s just a fight, a relentless fight, one moment after the next, bloodied, beaten, without rest, without help, without anything to get us through but pure fucking grit and the sense that goddamnit, we’re gonna get there if we die trying.
This notion that life should be a dream, a dance through the tulips, it’s poison. It’s ephemeral opiate, a smoky high that keeps us from seeing what’s going on.
But the fight keeps us focused, no matter how many cuts and bruises, how many broken bones, no matter that our hearts are in tatters and we know we’ve gone far, far from the ideal person we intended to be at the start.
All that matters is the result.
And ain’t that a hell of a way to live?
Target: 1000 words
Written: 484 words, comic: Western Cradle #3
Read: Me Talk Pretty One Day, David Sedaris
Comics: Preacher 37-40
Music: I Can't Be Satisfied, Paul Rodgers & Brian SetzerWell, mostly. I’m holding my own, but also partially drowning in phlegm and mucus.
This may be the birth of the Anti-Cold.
It’s like the Anti-Monitor, but against all things cough and snot related.
Snot robbed my mother, and I must avenge her! Mucus kicked my dog! Phlegm killed my Uncle Ben!
Can cough medicine make one delirious? Asking for a friend.
Target: 1000 words
Written: 2217 words, comic: Western Cradle #3
Read: Me Talk Pretty One Day, David Sedaris
Comics: Preacher 31-33, Preacher: Cassidy - Blood & Whiskey 1
Music: NWA Greatest Hits, NWA (fuck 'em, right?)This cold is something else.
It’s got my blood pressure up so high I can feel it. It’s a terrifying prospect to know that something as simple blowing your nose could cause an embolism.
I’m coughing so hard that it’s giving me a chronic migraine and each cough comes with a growing terror that I might stroke out or have an aneurysm.
Fuck me.
I’m starting to think this might not be a cold.
Target: 1000 words
Written: 226 words, comic: Western Cradle 3
Read: The Autobiography Of Malcolm X, Haley/X
Comics: Preacher 24-27
Music: Numbers, Cat Stevens/YusufLiterally. I’ve coughed so deep today that it just about gave me a migraine, or what I thought was the start of a migraine, but after checking my blood pressure, it might be a stroke or an aneurysm.
Fuck.
Can’t catch a break.
Fuckin’ cold.
Target: 1000 words
Written: 464 words, comic: Western Cradle #2
Read: The Autobiography Of Malcolm X, X/Haley
Comics: Preacher: The Story Of You-Know-Who (Arseface!) #1, Preacher 21-23
Music: Number One Blind, Veruca Salt