I have full intention to make this a good blog.  

I believe I have a good story. The most frustrating thing about being me, is believing I could have been so much more if  I’d figured myself out at age 27. Once again, I am living my life in somebody else’s world. I didn’t build my universe with intention and awareness until just recently.

Already I hate it, and there – I’ve gone into that first-person style. 

Bam. That is enough negativity, and my brain changes the topic. It’s so good at that, I put anything negative over the wall of tomorrow.

bam.

OK. I am quite high so the quality of writing may not happen, but I am going to try and return to the main story. My brain gets excited if there is a hint of another thing to try. There is a brief period before my second voice crushes the joy.

Dig.

Ding.

START AGAIN.

Hello.  I have a story to tell, and I have had a phobia of being egotistical ever since I was in high school. It’s a story, but not this one, although I suppose it is part of it all.

I’m a 54 year old actor. I only have two unpaid independent roles currently, and they are myself, in; My life, and Myself (high as Fuck) in; My life on drugs. They are played as two separate roles and can be played by me, or two separate actors.

Start Again.

Hello.  I need your help. For only 37 cents a day, I can become a dependent.

Start Again.

fuck.

(pause)

Nobody said yes please. I’m getting better already.  No.  No, I am not.

—-side idea.

Sketch Comedy Communities. Community Theatre Groups that are virtual.

I create a short video profile and seek out a team of 3 to start.

ding. I lost the energy of that  pitch and I should have gotten a drink a long time ago.

I suppose this answers a question I had about feeling no effect from the new source of my focus meds, and therefore perhaps doing more than I noticed.

One of the frustrations about being me… no.  I forgot it again.

HEALTH BREAK.

One of the things that frustrates me most, is that I finally have the confidence to think I might be really smart, in the way intelligence is calculated, and might have achieved great things, but I never quite figured out how.

I give up too quickly and consider it a fail.

I built my universe on my own, while high. Now I’m trying to go and patch the logic flaws and character flaws…

Start Again.

Switching to Video.

Switching Back.

Part of me wants to … and that’s the problem.

Hello.  I have a problem you ight be able to help me with. I thought I was being perfect. I couldn’t deny I got that wrong, all the time, but I was always trying to be perfect. I alwaus believed I was as close to perfect as I copuld be, given that I was me.

I was always on time, and my personality developed into a child that didn’t really exist, except in the character of exacly what the person in front of me needs to be. I exist in other people’s universe. Perhaps I shouold say the world, but calling it other people’s universes is significant at this stage in the draft.

I am creating my own universe, with awareness and intent. I’m hoping it’ll be a thing.

Idea: I want to create new ways for everyone to have one of the most important needs in a human’s evolution. That was hype. 

I want to create new ways for anyone to have at the very least, a community they can belong to. It is a shame that the greatest community for the health of a person or town was the Church, and they ruined a good thing for profit.

START OVER.  Drink and snack.

Intermission.

I was going to tell the truth. I am a54 year old practical virgin. Only kissed one girl. Only had horrible sex once.

Then I gave it up forever and focused on being liked.

I am an intellegent person. People like me.

I have lived inside my head, in other poeople’s lives without defining a self. I existed to make other people like me enough to let me live in their life and give me purpose.

Since I did not define a self, I don’t exist when I’m not reacting or performing.

I lay motionless till tyhe phone beeps with a new thing to react to.

At age 50, I had to live in my own universe for the first time ever. I had to learn how to be an adult with A.DD. First I had to learn how to be an adult. I had to learn how to ask.

I beleiev my story may be one telling in such a way that I could pay rent each month. I beleieve it’s possible, that with the right relationship, I might just be good at something.

Acting my life has been my life. I should see what other roles I might be able to do. It may be a world where people tell me what to do, and then tell it to me again in 3 minutes because I wasn’t really listening.

If I’m even mediocore at worst, they’ll all still tell me I’m great, any time I care to ask.

It is possible I might be a creative genius, but there is no way to know without help. I only very recently learned I’m not perfect. Being perfect worked beter alone. I hadn’t yet learned that we remember the stories better than we remember living. I didn’t retain the memories of my youth, which sounds like a lie.

ding. That almost esca;ated quickly.

I had sex once at age 33.

I have tried about a dozen or 3 times at various great expence to have good sex for the first time. The practing and going over lines is very exciting but I know I want to have sex. It’s something people look forward to. It’s a drive.

10:39pmm Tuyesday. Topmrrow at 10am I have to submit myself for evaluation. Possibly the most imprtant meeting of my life moving forward.

10:39 Tuesday and I’m high. quite high. Sleeping at all is still undecided. Sometimes I quit and call it a fail too early.

I have been up a lot. I have not slept very well.

I am 

I definaly have a drug problem. 

No.  I reframe.

My name is Jeff Goebel.
I have a life problem.
I have built drugs into my universe as a fopundation

Watching me might be a thing. A reality show?  

It will be hard without somebody to make me react. Without a few good fans, it will never be considered again.

I can beleieve I would be cool and likeable.  I then proceed to concieve how bad it could – will be. Look up Canadfian Game shows of the 80s and Ameriacn Game shows. 

I was perfect until I started sharing my universe. Now I see the flaws and continue on my goal.

The Bumper Sticker Therapy:

Don’tinterruptt, annoy, embarase. Don’t be the reason for anyone’s inconvenience.

I live my life with just one goal. Don’t give anyone reason to yell at you.

I’ve done quite well, or horribly poorly. I can’t judge, but I am enjoying the idea of trying to be a thing. It does seem like a lot of work.

I might be a great treasure on many levels, but since I might not be, I don’t take the risk.

I’ve been honest before. I once considered my book should be called; My Life: 101 First Drafts (of Chapter 1)

I don’t go through with it in the end. I can’t trust the judgement of Stoned Jeff, and I know Not Stoned Jeff will ignore it tomorow.

I have to risk sharing a first draft and hope that somebody sees it, and accepts the challenge. All I need in my life, is an assistant that will do everything.

I won’t. I’m going to go see if I can sleep.

In my bed.

With the bed bugs.

Dramtic Chord. Da daaaaaaa. A new low for me. I personally infected an entire building but a lot of them like to jump all over me at night. I keep the light on, sleep at the other end of the bed in long sleeve hoodie. It’s crazy.

I’m crazy.

And you can watch me… for real.  On webcams 24/7 ish.

I am a mess. I didn’t used to be.

End of Part 1.

10:54pm

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