Man, that last journal was an odd one. That happens every so often when I’m scatterbrained. The more things you have, the more it hurts when it’s all kicked out from under you.
Pierce College continues its rampage against my bank account and general well-being by offering nothing outside of a fishing line with a little piece of paper attached to the end. Recent events have put me in a position where things really are uncertain for the forseeable future. Foreseeable meaning “tomorrow, maybe”. Once Pierce is finally shaken off, the summer will hit, and I will be adrift.
Shall I get that second job, after all? Should I take someone’s offer to go to Maryland with them for a bit? Just because I can?
Where might the Monarch fly, then? Baltimore? Not likely.
Readers, there’s a very strange sensation deep in my bones that’s vibrating at such a high frequency that my teeth rattle when I’m sitting still. I don’t know what this is, and even trying to capture it as a poem is proving elusive. Instead of writing poems about that, I’ve been writing about everything else. In the last two hours I have written 11 poems.
That doesn’t happen much anymore.
We’re tackling themes such as bereavement, food service, finances, moving, flying, and all kinds of stuff. Very mixed bag today. Writing began as my way of keeping things in line when life was so up in the air like this. So it must persist, and it has proven itself to be an integral part of me.
But what about the Days of Reality City?? GUESS WHO’S GOT NOTHING BUT TIME TOMORROW? I might even record and edit TWO episodes! That’d be tippity top!
I make fun of content mill writers I know for writing for content mills to the tune of inconsequential 200-word essays. But here I am, doing the same thing. Perspective has a lot to do with how I write in any given moment, and right now there’s a lot of perspective flowing through the jagged, rusted lead pipes that form my circulatory system.
Project Truth is back on! The engineering project I talked about once for a brief period took a reality check and disappeared for a while, and now it’s back because everything is different now. It does have to do with drones, I will say that. Anything more would be potentially spoiling a surprise.
That’s an interesting segue to talking about the absence of any longer-term projects. I’m finding difficulty in deciding which longer-term projects to begin/I anticipate beginning and finishing this year as we approach number 5.
The roadmap for the rest of Year IV currently looks like this:
March: Monarch Sprint
April: Days of Reality City Season 1 begins.
May: Probably a lot of Poetry
June: Deneb Mythos focus
July: Photography focus
Year V begins in August.
Pretty simple, I think. There’s just so much to do and think of and I don’t have drive all the time. If creativity could be liquefied and put in a red bull, you better believe I would be the first in line to buy it. So many ideas, and only so much time in a day, and only able to type so fast or make content as quickly as a human such as myself can.
Making stuff is irritating sometimes. Like now, in the last two hours, I’ve written 11 poems, and in the past two weeks I hadn’t even broke double digits until today. It’s all quite fascinating, really.
I’ve been given the opportunity to experience regrowth in terms of life in general, and I need to use this opportunity.
Life is a bull market. Buy volatile, and buy low, so when it all jumps back up you can cash out.
Anyways, that’s enough of me droning on for slightly longer than a content mill author. I need to focus on not eating today because I need to save tuition money! It’s been weird already today, and I really hope that is a factor in making me want to write a lot more. I can feel those vibrations pretty strong now.
I might not be able to afford eating, but that doesn’t mean you can’t consume reality! Radio Reality City!