Hippos Don’t Belong in the Ocean

                My first time focusing on sitting silent for 30 minutes was an experience I wasn’t technically ready for. I’ve done this a few years ago but then it was for an hour and it was more focused on dealing with anxiety I was having, actually it was probably more focused on stopping a panic attack. I also wasn’t really too worried about falling asleep.

                This time I was very focused on not falling asleep if at all possible. I did catch myself drifting once but I’m fairly certain I caught it in time. When I first started there was definitely a part of my mind that was very much attempting to control what was happening which was working in opposition to my idea of letting my mind go. For quite some time I was very obsessed with the idea that something interesting needs to happen and the idea that I need to remember every single thing that came up during this. Because of this I started to wonder if my idea to document the experience was a mistake but ultimately I was trying to shift my focus back to the meditation, and to not avoid that fear and idea. I also was hoping to instill a sense of trust within myself to actually formulate something interesting to say. We’ll see if that happens as I’m literally at that process now.

                There’s very much a secondary part of my mind that was active as well, while the very controlled portion of my mind was certainly the loudest there was an aspect that’s more lucid and basically it was firing images off at random. At first it was just quick flashes of animals, like a cat crawling up my leg and then just quick pictures of other images, and then quickly it turned to the ocean. I started seeing waves and dolphins and other ocean animals. Then a traditional clipper ship and then a hippo. My very structured mind who was already obsessing over saying something interesting all of a sudden had a problem with a hippo being involved in an ocean world. See, there are no hippos in or near the ocean and that part of my brain was simply not okay with this. But the more lucid, less controlled portion of my mind decided it didn’t care and let the narrative go, then there was, like, a third voice….which was me (I mean all of these are me but trying to formulate this is odd) it was like a more conscious me watching all of this go down kind of stepped in and said “I’ll allow this,” and that’s where the world got weird. I can pinpoint four very weird scenes, the first of which became a tiny narrative and even my more controlled mind stepped in and tried to formulate a narrative and force it even when the rest of us were trying to move on. The hippo all of a sudden became more human and started picking fights with ocean creatures, more specifically a hammerhead shark. It beat up the shark professional wrestling style and moved on to fighting the ship and destroying the ship in one move which I can’t remember in detail. The hippo then was able to walk on water and posed on top of the water as though he were wrestler Randy Orton or soccer player Megan Rapinoe scoring a goal in the World Cup. Underneath the water, side characters from SpongeBob Square Pants went crazy as all of a sudden the hippo was wearing a Hulk Hogan bandana. All the cheers ended though when a whale-sized eel with alligator teeth ate the hippo in one bite and the scene shifted.

                The next few scenes lacked the narrative as the portion of my mind that wanted more control kind of grew bored with all of this as it started to wonder when this would all end. It also tried to focus on my back pain then grew anxious that we might be sitting here more than 30 minutes and my alarm just didn’t want to go off. It also was a little fearful that I would not remember the hippo story which seemed impossible. (As an aside, I might name the different parts of my brain that come up during this. There has to be an easier way to present what’s going on.)

                The next image I remember was Danny Devito sporting a mustache in an empty bar just staring at a TV. My more conscious self was looking at a depressed looking Danny Devito and I asked him, “What’s wrong Danny Devito?” he gave no response but instead just continued staring forward. Out of nowhere then came Steve Buscemi looking down on me but not like in an angelic way. It was kind of like a photo of Steve Buscemi from People Magazine or something, just floating above my head staring at me before it decided to breath fire at me like a dragon.

                Another vivid image I had was the logo from The Lion King musical singing the beginning of Circle of Life at me on a loop while in front of the logo two unnamed silhouettes of figures took part in a chase scene and jumped into a random chasm.

                The final vivid image I had was separate from the chase scene in front of the logo was the WB frog chasing a man on a bicycle but never actually gaining or losing ground. The WB frog also looked like it was running away from the man on the bike but he was actually going in the direction of the man. All of this was quite odd.

                I don’t quite know what my expectations for this were. I guess I was expecting to have some kind of breakthrough on myself but ultimately it felt like dreaming while awake. I ended up accessing a part of my imagination I feel had been missing for a long time and it was pleasing and I look forward to accessing it some more and I hope I am able to let my mind go more during this and not obsess over results.

                I also am finding myself wondering if certain hallucinogens are not creating hallucinations but instead unlocking an aspect of the mind that remains hidden or at the very least sits in the background.

And finally I wonder where these images came from. Some I can at least associate from recent pop culture and entertainment things I’ve consumed but some of them are just weird. I’m guessing they’re just stored memories from over the years but from where exactly is likely unclear though I think if I sat and thought it through there’s a likely origin somewhere.


                I’m entering a world of meditation. Two times in my life I have done meditation for long periods of time and both times I’ve seen amazing results. The first time was when I moved to Boston from South Bend, Indiana. There were a lot of horrifying stresses associated with this and it was meditation that primarily got me through it. Because of the state my mind was in, I was able to do scary things that I don’t think I normally would have done. I ended up blogging about this online for some time too and it overall ended up being a very memorable, positive experience from a time that I’d say was one of the most stressful ever.

             The second time I did it was about a year later. Basically the early months of 2018. This wasn’t a completely stressful time though finances were rather tight and I typically have a difficult time with depression in the early portion of the year when the days are short and the weather is cold, but that winter I had gotten into a routine of meditating every day and I did this for about two months. The differences in my social anxiety were astounding (actually in both instances, the amount of times I’ve small-talked people during those periods was rather crazy. Anyone who has known me for a long time probably associates me with being quiet and passive and truthfully during those times I was not). The meditating also instilled in me an optimism within myself that I hardly feel and it was starting to instill more patience and empathy though I kind of stopped what I was doing before I really got to a good place there unfortunately. What ultimately happened I think was an effect of “I’m good now, I don’t need to do this,” completely forgetting the treatment that got me there.

             Obviously this is a weird time and it’s very stressful. I’ve gone through personal stressors too as pretty much everyone else has. I’ve recently been furloughed and I’m skeptical as to whether or not the job will come back due to the type of industry I work in and the amount of layoffs that have already taken place. There’s the general anxiety associated with not wanting to get sick or even scarier, get other people sick. My pet recently fractured her paw and that added worries both about her and financially. My grandfather continues to battle illnesses in my home state of Iowa during a time when everyone requires isolation, so there are just general anxieties that surround my life. That’s not to say I have it horrible or anything, I am very thankful about a lot going on in my situation too. For now I’m still being paid for my time off, I haven’t been laid off and my pet has improved from her more dire situation from a few days ago. Thankfully I’ve known no one who has succumbed  to COVID and that alone is something to be thankful for but at the end of the day with my general anxiety and depression issues just navigating through normal days is hard at times. Doing it when everything is weird and I’m kind of shut inside a studio apartment is even more challenging.

             Initially my irritability, stress levels and anxiety were getting very bad and I’m realizing that in order to navigate through all of this I’m going to have to learn to cope with a lot of things I’m uncomfortable with and I decided to sit down and meditate as the time is definitely there. I’ve done little spurts of 10-15 min meditations throughout the day and I can already see a shift in my thinking. I’m less attached to my distressed thoughts and my irritability, while there, it is definitely less. I’m regaining perspective and empathy and starting to get in a better spot but what I’m also feeling is a desire to feel something a little bit more.

             So I thought about things the last couple of days, and I remember my previous days of meditation and there were days where I’d sit on the train or bus to work and instead of looking on my phone or journaling or reading and I could honestly sit there with myself, my thoughts and just think about the world around me. That led to a thought about how obsessed I can be with being entertained. I don’t like having moments where I’m not looking at my phone and finding something to keep me entertained. I then thought about times where I held jobs working as a cashier or something and not being able to look at a phone and what happened as I sat there bored out of my mind was I ended up having ideas for stories. When I’d get bored in class I day dreamt. I literally had a long running story that started when I was in 7th grade chorus class that lasted until 2008 when I worked at a Walgreens during the summer (my last year of college). 

When my mind has the opportunity to be bored it does a lot of things. It’s worked through anxiety, depression and it can create some cool stuff so because of this I wanted to give my brain the opportunity to do this again, so my plan is to sit for 30 minutes with my eyes close and give my brain permission to do whatever it wants to do. I did a couple of test runs with this last night. The first time ended up being a shade under 20 minutes and my brain went all over the place. I felt anxiety and then released it, random images popped up (the night before I watched some classic Eddie Murphy SNL sketches so my mind showed images of fictional African American people sporting a style one associates with that time period. I saw a lot of afros, sideburns and mustaches and it was glorious).

             It also caught me getting into my usual habits but this time I felt like a spectator watching the thoughts go by. The best example is that I started getting carried away with what I wanted to do with this meditation. I already saw myself sitting in the mountains and being a monk and that’s what I do when I get excited about an activity. I get very carried away and when I’m not immediately a master at a thing I give up and that’s what my mind did then but I felt like I was just watching it and not getting carried away (though I guess one could argue that my desire to write about this every day may fall in that category but at least I’m not claiming I’m Buddha or anything crazy….yet)

             The second time I did this at the very early hours of the morning and I fell asleep so it wasn’t as useful as I would have liked, so noted on that.

             I’m basically using this to experience being alone with my mind and experiment with its effect on me as a person and I want to document the experience. It was doing this last night that gave me the idea to do this today and I truly believe the documentation of my experiences while moving helped me get through THAT tough time and I want to experience that again.

             So basically my goal, at the moment, is to sit for 30 minutes in silence and let my mind go. If I want to sit in silence I will. If my mind wants to race it will race. If I get anxious I’ll explore that. If I’m depressed I’ll explore that too. Basically I want to watch and be with my thoughts and see where that goes. If 30 minutes is too long or too short I’ll adjust that but right now I like 30 minutes. If I need to lay more ground rules I will (my main worry is falling asleep a bunch) but I’m very interested to see where all of this goes.


Failure: The Movie…..Okay….It’s Not A Fucking Movie, It’s a Blog Post With the Theme of Failure….or At Least The Word “Failure” Appears a bunch. I Don’t Know What I’m Talking About. Just Click On The Thing So Advertisers Want To Pay Me At Some Point.

I’ve heard of the “fear of failure.” The idea is that you’re so scared of an idea or a project not working so much that you don’t even try. It makes sense to some capacity. People fear public speaking because they don’t want to look foolish or they’re afraid of asking someone out because they’ll get laughed at. The whole idea is humans are afraid of being rejected because they like to fit in and not receive ridicule.

I have issues with this as I have social anxiety and have a strong desire to have everyone like me, which is really strange because there are some hardcore shitstains who exist but I always find myself fearing looking silly because someone might think a negative thought about me. It seems as though I’ve gone through my most growth as a person has come from doing stuff that makes me scared. That all seems like common sense though we seem to avoid uncomfortable situations because they’re uncomfortable. All this seems like an aside to my real point.

I am an intelligent person. That sounds conceited and I don’t know, maybe it is, but for a lot of my life I have been underemployed and used the economy crash from 10 years ago as an excuse. Not that it didn’t play a factor into my underachieving but I more than used it as an excuse to not apply myself for jobs and other types of projects that I really wanted and to fit a challenge that matches what I’m capable of. Because of this I’ve had people like my wife and parents tell me I’m just afraid of failing but I had a hard time not feeling like it was just laziness. Playing a video game always felt easier and more enjoyable than sitting down and applying for jobs or writing a cover letter or writing my novel….and for the most part passively playing a game IS more fun than those things (even though there is a certain high one can get from attempting self improvement and from really getting into the flow of any kind of those activities. The day dreams one can get from applying for a job that really seems to match your personality can’t exactly be matched by certain aspects of video games in my eyes. Not that I’m knocking gaming at all. Trust me, that’s an activity I’ve dabbled in many times.) But whenever I’d consider doing one of those things I’d think of the back ache I may get, the struggle I’ll go through when it comes to saying the right things and how I would lose time in my day to do the things I really love. Ultimately, it didn’t seem worth it.

The same things happens to me now a days; in my recent desire to explore my creativity I have come up with ample story ideas. The desire to actually sit down and write one of them has been lacking and again it’s because I associate it with fatigue and work I don’t want to do and it doesn’t seem worth it because it just won’t immediately be published (side note: I am strongly working on getting rid of the idea of writing a story with an accomplishment in mind. Truth is, creative writing as a get rich quick scheme isn’t the most successful venture no matter how many times of daydreaming of being some bestseller with a weirdo cover shot in the back of some book. I’m really trying to enjoy the process of making a thing. It works fine until I get to the editing part….fuck the editing part. Except for when I don’t do it it’s pretty easy to question the “I’m intelligent” claim I just made….oh well I guess.)

But I just had another idea for an activity type book that I want to turn into an ebook, now I won’t publish the exact idea on here because odds are I’ll procrastinate and one of you turds will likely steal my idea before I do it, and the work required for this book is more minimal that a lot of my ideas, but I just find myself in a position where I don’t want to do it. Like I said, the effort required for my idea is minimal but when I think of doing the project all I can think of is “what if this doesn’t work” and for some reason it makes the venture not worth it. While I can think of some subconscious indicators that the other avoidant things I do are really indicative of a fear of failing…this is the first time I’ve truly felt like I’m afraid of failing. But why? Why is it that fucking something up is so terrifying. How can one learn without fucking up? And this project isn’t exactly artistic in anyway so why is it I am afraid of the project failing? It wouldn’t really show anything about who I am as a person. I don’t know, maybe I’m ultimately afraid of wasting time and that again goes back to my issue of never enjoying the moment and always working towards the end product as the true reward. Hopefully I’ll take it to heart that the process is what life is really all about….

Whoa, that got deep or some shit. Or maybe that works as a shitty meme or something. I don’t know.

I Want Life to Follow a Script But Really, Everything is Kind of Improved and That Is Kind of Better. Whose Line is it Anyways? Was Better Than A Lot of Shows With a Script. Think About It. Sigh….Okay, This Thing is About How I’m Obsessed With Control, Okay.

The need for control seems to be at the center of a lot of my anxiety. It very much is at the center of my social phobia. I rehearse conversations and replay them over and over again hoping for some sense of predictability when it comes to a lot of different types of social interaction. The problem with this is life is really nothing but a lot of improve. Humans are different and they respond to different situations in different ways.

I can’t really predict the way another person will respond to a thing I say or to the situation I’m in so I feel like entering a conversation with no preparation is really the way to go plus I feel like the natural flow of a conversation is what makes talking to another person fun in the first place. But the idea of preparing for a conversation doesn’t exactly work for conversations that can typically be pleasing, there are difficult conversations that exist too and I feel it’s easier to just get into it. When I have to do something challenging the idea of picking up the phone or approaching the person is a very fear provoking thing (and with my social issues conversations that shouldn’t really be difficult are more difficult for myself than they are for others. At least I assume this is the case but then again I could easily be mind reading in this situation. Maybe what I think is hard for me really is difficult for others as well) I prepare a script and I practice for what I THINK the other person is going to say, and usually what I think the other person is going to say is probably worst case scenario with what they could say. What ends up happening is I create a layer of defensiveness before the conversation even starts and in order to hype myself up for the conversation I get angry with the person to some level before we even talk creating a combative situation where there may not have been before.

On top of that, the scripting really doesn’t help anything. I’m still anxious regardless of how often I prepare so it doesn’t do anything but make the situation worse. I’ve kind of just learned to jump right into a difficult discussion without scripting to begin with. Instead I let the unknown take over and release the sense of control that I so strongly desire.

But isn’t just a social situation. I tend to get stuck in routines and can get irritable when a routine is broken. For instance, at any job I have I get stuck on tasks and get frustrated when a customer comes in unexpectedly because, even though the number one thing you want in business is customers because they give you money for things, I am not ready for them. Because of this I can get subconsciously angry at a person for having the nerve to interrupt my work with their desire to pay me. It doesn’t really effect my service on a conscious level however there is a part of me that just wants the interaction to end and that makes it difficult to give my all which is really want I want to do in life.

Part of my search for creativity…(that’s a thing I’m doing now. Last year my coming out of seasonal depression thing was finding myself or some shit. Now I’m searching for creativity. I don’t know what the difference is between the two but bear with me.) is to let go of my need for control. Unexpected things gives me the opportunity to problem solve and test my personal abilities and that really should be a fun and rewarding thing but I can be a boring person, especially if I adhere to a certain level or rigidity so allowing myself to be more adaptive and accepting of whatever life may punch me in the face with (or, you know, give me good things too I guess) I can find the opportunities to learn, grow and enjoy things more than if I just hope for the same things every day.

Dreams and The Real World; How Plausible Is It? Plus, I Just Used a Semi-Colon….Likely Incorrectly But I Don’t Give a Shit Because Semi-Colons Are Fucking Incredible.

“I have a dream” That’s a original….where have we heard that before? Definitely not on some whiny dude’s blog before. “Give 110 percent” What does that mean? It feels like generic filler more than anything. Something that is said because someone doesn’t know what else to say. Ultimately it means try harder than hard but mostly it’s a saying that doesn’t really make any sense. It’s really unfair to lump in a generic sports cliche with a legendary speech from Martin Luther King Jr. so I don’t know why I did that. My bad.

The point is though the ideas of dreams and effort are linked but what does it really mean to try your very best at something? It seems like a simple thing but maybe it isn’t. Or maybe it is simple but we reward giving maximum effort to one thing too greatly when it involves sacrificing other aspects of life.

I made a declaration to myself today. I’m going to give my best effort to devote as much time as I can to writing. And to self improvement and maybe…to my job.

A job, it’s a thing I do in exchange for money. I guess it’s a normal thing to do but it certainly doesn’t match 100 percent with what I’d prefer to be doing with my life. Not that I necessarily hate the thing nor am I bad at it. But that begs the question, what do you do if what you are doing with your life isn’t 100 percent what you want to do. I’ve heard people say “go for it” with the subtle implication being quit your job and chase what you want to do and while to some level this is admirable….it’s pretty fucking reckless. If I quit my job today I would harm not just myself but other people as well. Sure the extra 50-60 hours a week would be nice to have in some capacity but to just up and quit for a long shot pipe dream….I’m sorry, it’s reckless. This means I do what I can to achieve my dream outside of work hours but my obsession with tackling my dreams makes it so work can seem like an obstacle at times, which is unfair to the job that pays me. It doesn’t mean I don’t try my best at the job but it does mean my heart is elsewhere.

This means I have to compromise. When I have a moment, the second a thought pops into my head I have to throw the idea on a piece of paper. I only write when it feels right and will no longer force it. I have a lot of mental clutter caused by anxiety and made worse by things like social media and other aspects of the internet and entertainment. By clearing these things out of my mind I can still give my all at my job, which is important but also still allow myself to chase my dreams. I can learn to excel in things that matter and not so much in the weird online world where we seek momentary approval of people we don’t know. I’m learning more and more that the clearer I can make my mind…the more active creatively I can be. My mind wants to excel and create and do amazing things….I just have to let it.

Sometimes I feel like the stuff I write is nothing but stream of consciousness nonsense that really doesn’t fit together in any kind of cohesive way but oh well.

Give Your Heart and Soul to a Thing Then You Can Complain. Doesn’t That Sound Cool and Meme-like or Something?

I’m finding creative expression to be an odd thing. For one thing, I’m not doing it as much as I’d like but that’s a thing I’ve complained about for awhile (side note, I accidentally typed “dong” instead of “doing” at first and that’s funny because wieners are hilarious) Like, I daydream of just sitting in a room and drawing or painting or sculpting with play-dough or something but I always decide against actually doing it because I don’t have ideas and I don’t have materials and I’m always tired and have little time.

Because I don’t create nearly as much as I’d like I spend a lot of time hating myself and getting angry that I am just wasting life away. I have all these dreams and hardly chase them because I’m tired and really need to re-watch every episode of The Office for some reason.

Today though, I created something. I wrote a short story (read it here. I ain’t wasting any opportunities to self-plug) And because I’m a little narcissistic I felt entitled to have everyone I know read the damn thing. There was a voice in my head saying, “If you don’t read this you don’t care about me” which is a ridiculous thing. People have their own lives and they are going to occupy it with what they want to do and expecting them to use that precious time solely to support myself is a tad selfish. That didn’t stop me from ample self loathing and there’s a part of me that’s like “I wrote the thing. Why isn’t it getting published immediately and why am I not a famous writer now!” which is even more ridiculous. There are people who give their heart and soul to a craft and get nothing from it. There are people who do so and WANT nothing from it and here I am, cranking out a short story for the first time in ages expecting to be someone from it. It’s terrible and it’s selfish and honestly it comes from a place of loathing where I am in life at the moment which really just comes from my sever depression I’m going through the last few months. And honestly, that comes from myself. There’s no situation in life that’s going to fix that one so feeling entitled to the life that I want just because I don’t want to feel shitty and said anymore just isn’t worthwhile.

Having said that I do have dreams and desires. I even spent a lot of time recently documenting everything I want from life on a piece of paper and of course spent even more time self loathing because I have barely any of it. So I’m trying to come up with a new way of thinking. I want to be the type of person who gives my heart and soul to something and one of two things will happen. One thing that could happen is that I’ll get what I actually want (and let’s face it, unless I do what’s good for me mentally I’ll probably still struggle with this depression nonsense) or I’ll have a reason to complain at the very least which, uh, I guess is a good thing? I don’t know. The concept sounded more bad-ass and motivating when I came up with it at first.

I’m Scared as Shit. Get Hyped.

Every December I get depressed as fuck. It’s probably common. Money gets tight for a lot of people. Loneliness gets stronger because of the holidays and seeing as I live hours from my family making travel difficult if not impossible, I definitely felt that one this year. The constant barrage of darkness and cold weather is much to take which is odd as I spend a lot of times indoors anyways.

As the new year happens I get a little hope. I create all these things I’m going to do better in the new year and one of those things is usually something over ambitious like “I’M GONNA WRITE A DOPE ASS NOVEL EVERY DAY!!!!!!” so of course I don’t do that and I begin to feel like a piece of shit because I can’t accomplish my goals. “SUCCESSFUL PEOPLE SET GOALS EVERY DAY!!!!!” You’re told all the time. I don’t do that and when I do I don’t achieve that so I am not a successful person, I am instead a smelly fart dong…..I guess. I don’t know, my brain is weird. I then go through issues with that (compounded by being Broke Man. Um, it’s a super hero I just made up on the spot. A…..man with the uncanny ability to not have money…..it’s….not good. Nevermind.) and eventually hit a sweet spot where I feel motivated with goals that aren’t as extreme. It was at that moment a year ago when I started making this blog. Eventually the writing tapered off and then every once in awhile I’d throw out bangers related to urine on toilet handles BECAUSE I KNOW WHAT THE PEOPLE WANT TO READ!!!!! (Also, absolutely no one says “banger” to describe a fucking blog article but I am a goddamned innovator. That’s why I have 103 followers on this shit. TRIPLE DIGITS, BITCHES)

So, I’m at that point in the depressed/anxious Josh cycle (this page is scared dude, not sad dude after all) AND THAT MEANS I AM PUMPED WITH REALISTIC EXPECTATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOO, REALISTIC EXPECTATIONS I STILL PROBABLY WON’T MEET!!!!! But we’re ignoring that part this time! I’m going to write so many fear related posts. It’s gonna rain anxiety related context all over word press. My Facebook feed is gonna get so flooded that the government will neglect funding it for months! FUCK YEAH WRITING.

Sorry, I get carried away. I was like, really depressed about 20 minutes ago but I listened to some NWA and am full of swag and no I’m ready to put my head through a wall from hype!

Um…yeah, so I guess I’m gonna write more on here. Unless I don’t. I dunno.

I Got a Handle on Life. Wait, There’s Pee on the Handle. That’s Gross!

I went pee today. I work in a mall like building. Some people call it a “mall” I guess. Whatever, I don’t like labels. And in this mall there is a bathroom. I’m sure you can see where this is going. (heh, going. Like, as in, pee) I used the bathroom in the mall. When I did so I used the urinal. It was a nice urinal I suppose. I wouldn’t have eaten out of it or anything but in terms of freshness I suppose it was the dopest urinal on the block though I haven’t exactly tested every urinal on the block I just assume because a majority of the buildings on the block are apartments and only weirdos have urinals in their apartment. Regardless, I don’t have the time to urinal test. I’m a working man and working men use urinals!

Oh, I suppose you’re looking for a point this. Well, in my use of urinals I touched the handle to flush and as I did so the fucking thing was wet. That’s gross. I have no idea what would cause the handle of a urinal to be wet but I don’t suppose the answer is one that I would enjoy. I checked my hand for sores or something because I don’t need stranger pee in my blood. That’s just setting up for a not so good experience as far as I’m concerned. This motivated me to wash my hands for about 20 minutes straight because that shit is gross. Now I have no pee on my hands and we can all be friends! Except for the dude who made the urinal handle wet. That dude sucks and I hate him. Let’s ridicule that fucker forever.

I’m Fighting for my Pipe Dream.

I’ve started writing another novel. Just to be clear, I have written two and half but you won’t really find them posted anywhere or published in stores because I am scared of editing them. Just finding the will power to write hundreds of pages was hard enough. To find the will power to do it again and again has just been too much for me. Having said that I haven’t really done the latter for a long time.

My motivation to piece together a story has slowly returned to me it is hard to write when all you do is judge every sentence that goes onto the screen. I can tell after about 9 pages of writing already that this story is flawed and I can’t get what I am writing to match the emotions and feel that I am going for. I suppose that comes with the editing which I really don’t enjoy. There is also a fear that I won’t continue to do this. There’s fear that I will let procrastination turn to apathy and then another story fades away. I have a habit of this. There are countless stories I never finished and while it’s easy to say “just start again” it feels like stories have a shelf life and I can’t return to them once a certain amount of time has passed, which is really disappointing because a couple of stores I have felt this way towards were 100+ pages and it feels like all that time has been wasted.

I can’t help but feel like I have no time. I got angry because I work 50 hours a week and while I’m good at what I do I can’t help but feel I’m wasting time because I want to be in front of my computer listening to music, finding a way to craft emotions into a story and finding a way to create my imagination into characters who come to life. I grow angry because I have a vision for who I want to be and I’m spending a lot of time doing things that don’t lead me to that. Unfortunately the things I don’t want to be doing are very essential to survival as they lead to money and money leads to food. Maybe, someday I will create the discipline and work ethic necessary to give me what I truly desire.

I’m Petrified Again So Again I Write.

Holy shit. It’s been awhile since I’ve done this. I think all the progress I made on myself from months ago (truthfully it feels like years) is all gone. I wish I could say that I am yearning to write again because of some calling, like say, maybe I saw in the clouds a figure of a bearded man writing at a desk or something. It’d be even cooler if he was using a feather pen to write poetic stuff because feather pens are pretty sweet. But it isn’t that. It’s fear that has motivated me to return to putting random words on a screen. Since I’ve moved I can’t help but feel as though things keep going against me. My wife had a brief, but still frightening cancer issue, my car has been totaled in an accident and I just can’t quite feel secure when it comes to money.

I honestly can’t remember the last moment when there wasn’t tightness in my chest. So that blows. I’m hopeful that this new bout of fear and stress will lead to motivation that sticks once everything becomes better. I have a novel I wrote 5 years ago that I never have revised. The dream was always to publish it as an e-book but I never quite muster the motivation to do so. All I can do is fantasize about it becoming a hit (which I understand is unlikely but it’s fun to dream) but I can’t quite muster the strength to finish the damn thing. Right now, the motivation is strong but that comes from the fear.

The thought I keep having is “I need a new car right now. If I can only turn this book into a hit than maybe things will change.” Like, I’m going to become an instant millionaire from a book about a young man and his boner (inside joke to my story that no one has read nor can they read because I won’t post it anywhere. I assure you it’s hilarious because I say the word “boner” and “boner” is a funny word.) I am starting to wonder if it’s the dream of publishing such a book that keeps me from doing it. Within the dream is hope….if I don’t try and fail with the dream….the hope never dies. I think it’s the same damn reason I never really asked girls out when I grew up. Hope is a powerful thing but it can also be a major inhibitor to actually getting shit done. I suppose the first step to getting everything I ever hoped for is getting my dreams stomped on for a bit at first. With that I am motivated to finally revise my novel….but not right now….I’m tired and I have to figure out how to buy a fucking car with no money.

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