WHAT I WRITE NOW…
…is mostly made up but when I die it will be thought of as true; future readers will look back at my non-adventurous life of drunken, drugged-out ease and actually believe I lived large and played hard when in fact I barely left home…although my imagination frequently went out…truth is I’ve spent most of the last six decades trying to figure out how to get by without actually working, I almost got it down to a science; it takes persistence and you have to compromise, but if you’re any good at what you do you’ll someday reap the bennies & eventually you’ll make money, so to that end I am in hot pursuit…I’m a successful writer without a dime…ditto painter, that’s it though, those are my only two real successes, but many people go through life without any.
SUDDENLY THE MEANING OF ‘IT’ BECAME ABUNDANTLY CLEAR…
…and I immediately and for days on end plunged into and was drowning in the sea of despair, morbid in deepest Kafkaesque despondency; it’s too late to change anything, the damage is done. The future is certain, the end is near…
…and that Dear Reader is where I’ve stayed humorlessly (until about 30 minutes ago) for the last two dope-free weeks after a run-in with 911 and a nighttime visit by the EMTs from Grace Cottage, Lou & Scott…to whom I am heavily indebted…so okay I had a major choking spell, nothing new there…but withal I quit smoking reefer - only nothing seems to have changed except my attitude has gone from not-very-good-anyway to bad to worse to worst, so moments ago I said well frig this Dude, choke to death or not, I’m having a toke, and did, and the improvement was immediate - life again is good, my semi-positive attitude and equilibrium return…on balance, it’s a trade-off but what in life isn’t?
…Dude, I mean I was so bummed out by this whole scenario I was like a zombie, immobilized, could not seem to rise above it, had no interest even in writing NOTES which for 21 years has been my catalyst, not to mention my raison d’etre and bete noir all in one…a package deal, but even NFTD couldn’t carry me over this one so I spun up a fatty and got right…
…my love-hate relationship with a life of dissipation continues apace.
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