Yeah sometimes I just scratch my bread to feel something… I don’t know it feels good. It’s nice to know my brain is still fucking working. Sometimes I just sort of feel like a walking dead. No not a fucking zombie, just on another plain. Like everything around me is living and moving at a different speed and I just look at my hands and wonder if I could walk through a building. It’s kind of lonely when you’re surrounded by so much life and you can’t keep up. It’s one reason why I like to keep to myself. I know I will always get me, and I have the most amazing conversations in my head. The voices are always so polite, they thank me when I make them coffee and eat a cookie, we really get along. I’m only half kidding if you can’t tell. But really it’s kind of crazy just walking outside and seeing someone on their way to work. They just seen so put together. Life makes sense. There is no question of what is going to happen next, while I just look out the window and wonder if this is the last day I have even though my body has given me no reason to doubt it.
I was thinking about starting a new book. That might help me get out of this rut. I can’t believe how many talented writers I know and they all share my shit, I don’t know why. I always like promoting their shit on my blog too. If you’re a fucking writer looking to get your shit out you should write to me and I’ll feature your shit on my blog, fuck why not? Writers helping writers right?
One of the authors I follow tweeted about the new book he’s finishing up. I write about him a bit on this blog. His name is R.K. Gold, the dude is a fucking machine. He writes like a monster, always high fucking quality, and a ridiculous amount of quantity. I think he’s the real fucking deal. His first book, I shared on here a bit, but it was fucking insane! Just Under the Sky! If you haven’t gotten it you should.
Here is the amazon link but you can get it on Barnes and Noble too if you hate Amazon lol http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01631191S/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?ie=UTF8&btkr=1
Anyway I saw he was working on a new book about killing God. I mean what!? Is this kid trying to become best friends with Neil Gaiman now?
Meanwhile I’m just writing the same old stupid shit, which sounds more and more like drug talk. I don’t know.
Like I said, I’m just standing on the side of the river of life watching heads bob over the streams. They think they’re white caps but really they’re shoals looking to stop my progress and drown me the second I dip my pinky toe into the water. And I want to. It’s steamy as fuck and living on the sidelines of life is how you get pneumonia. It’s fucking brutal and freezing, and no one wants to share the bed.
Yeah that’s what I’ll do. I’ll start living again. I’ll start writing again. Damn, starting up this blog again was the best decision I’ve made recently. Fuck it’s nice to just write and write and not have to worry about how pretty it is. Fuck the make up honestly, fuck editing fucking blows. Yo! I’m back mother fuckers this is it!
I am pumped! I feel good! I’m jumping into that fucking water and not just floating. No, fuck that. I’m swimming with the current.