wed/20211110

One of those days where the apathy, the indifference, the vacuum – all outside my control – are weighing on me. Might be a byproduct of high blood sugar, first in awhile – or the cause, the symptom or. Can never tell. But oh well, hell.

And so I rhyme.

Thinking: Do I need to amplfy my ambition for MainFicThing to make it a publishable short story? Push it – push me – into the next step? Or am I content in the confines of my own agency?

But nevermind: that's committing the cardinal sin of my thought processes: form before story. Never worked out / lesson (mostly) learned.

Regardless: only way through all of it just to do the work and let the shit I can't control be relegated to the "fuckit" box. Easier said than done: this is the perpetual practice.

The day awaits.

tue/20211109

Harvest sounds omnipresent, combines or harvesters or whatever that equipment's called – the big things that take over the whole road –, working through the night: a comfort, in its way: the closest I find here to soothing industrial white noise.

(When I came back here for my second visit after moving to Boston all those lifetimes ago, I brought a recording of city noise: it was too quiet for me to sleep in my old room. Fortunately, in this life-iteration, my wife had always slept to a fan, so I've found an approximation and a happy medium.)

I've started a stack of books that need zettel-processing on The Table. Making it a thing for when the words aren't coming and I need something useful with which to occupy my hands and (what passes for ) my brain.

Fairly certain that last night's yard-bunny made their escape following the terror-inducing Morkie and Jorkie encounter at pre-bed piss'n'shit time...

The day awaits.