I often make up rules for myself to follow. Goals to be a better person, but like so many other things, I don’t follow those rules. I strive to not use absolute statements in my life. I try to not start sentences with actually. I do my best to use alternatives to the word hate, or at least I prefer to “hate it when…” instead of hating somebody because of something they do. These are all word guidelines I have created for myself to at least give the appearance of being a better person. They are all hard habits to break. I use absolutes. I use “actually” all the time, and my newest video series is about a grumpy old man that hates everything.
This morning I woke up at 5:03 which is nicer than any time in the 4 o’clock hour. I was sleepy. I still am. I didn’t feel like starting my non-routine routine in bed as I often do. I didn’t turn on my tablet in bed, but instead walked down the hallway with the bright lights on and sat on the toilet with the bright lights on, pet the cat and returned to sit at my computer instead. I have a customer task I should work on. O have two other customer tasks I should work on. THere are a few other things I should tend to today although I am leaning towards doing the ones that are for me again, instead of the list of shoulds. I honestly have not decided on a mood yet, It could still go either way.
Despite being indecisive at 5:42am, there is one absoloute. I need to smole some more meth to snap out of this unusual morning mood. As I type that, the two clouds I have just finishised exhaling are hardly having the noticable effect, but my mind does briefly wander to consider how much this seems like a need at this point.
I do anothher round and the world comes back into focus a bit better. I accidentally went to sleep with my dentures still in my mouth last night, so I notice a different kind of dry mouth. I then think about the fact it’s been 45: minutes since I opened my eyes and I hve not downed the 1100mg of Swiss chocolate bar I am acustomed to injest, even before the smoke. I am reminded of my recent song. Every day is different. Every handful, whole new ball game replays in my head, I take my pink pill, eat my chocolate bar, take a third round of puffy white smoke in and out of my system and start my energized and artificialy exciting dull day. I rate this morning 2 out of 7… and not just becaue it’s Wednesday. Now I have to decide between which camel photo I use, or what other featured image is the best choice. That might be the only decision I actually have to make from now till Thursday.
Farm life. Wake, chocolate, meth, chickens, meth, repeat.
oh… and hydrate.
End of part 1… again.
I don’t often do part two, but I hadn’t closed the browser and the next two hits inspired more things to ramble on. The gears in my brain are once again grinding and synapses are snapping, As my brain fog is cleared away by my long fog, I start to filll the emptiness with ideas once again. The normal me emerges through the clouds and I begin the more normal practice of thoughts coming in a continuous stream. I could have started writing four or five different blog titles in the pause just after those last two exhales. I start thinking about the new biography series I began two days ago. The non liniar information dump showcasing the way my brain thinks. I am still not sure what to do with it, but it’s fun as long as I can keep myself trying. I requested a good friend of mine review the posts and that step seems like a big one. I so seldom ask for a review of myself, and it’s funny how my brain has already built up their response in my mind. I have onsoleted the review by asssumption. If they say it’s great, I will attribute that as an insincere review by a friend. I’m deletiacte. When people ask you if you like something they obviously think is good, you have to agree. Saying “it’s… interesting” won’t cut it. I have already discounted the awesome praise the artificial intelligence showered me with. Now I asked for a human evaluation and even before they reply, I have decided I won’t believe them if they say it’s good and I hope they don’t say its too scatterbrained and wild and non-linear.
I am a weird performance artist that is terrified to have anyone see me.
but experience tells me this is not a fair refkection of reality. People do like me. I make people smile. I’m just content if nobody ells at me. I can handle the rest… it’s just the lull between the share that I fill with anxiety. Like the lyric in my favourite co-written song; But what if I’m wrong?
