mon/20211227
A few notions circling this morning…
… that my personal style is a combination of George Harrison and Doctor Strange through a filter of exhausted, bicep-separated dog-walker.
… that there's something that I want to play with in the MainFictionThing that came to me this morning that I don’t know if I’m brave enough to try but maybe IDK...
… but then again there’s this pervasive existential dread of late that I'll die without accomplishing anything I set out to do etc etc, a dread stemming, in all likelihood, from a combo of too many half-days of work in a row (I hate the holidays) while watching DON'T LOOK UP (which is fantastic, BTW, this era's DR STRANGELOVE) and aforementioned holiday-infused frustration.
… and digging deeper, perhaps: dismay that after knowing for all of my adult life that I didn't want children (except for dogs) – and still not wanting children (except for dogs) and being friends with perhaps the only two remaining childless couples across this heartlandic wasteland – I've nonetheless allowed much of the last ten years be dictated by children – be they older or younger, in-laws or niece or mother – only half of whom I'm capable of liking at any one point in time (though the niece is a general constant of liking – she's a cool kid, even when – especially when – she kicks my ass at MARIO KART), a truth which does sadden me: as much as I'm doing my best to avoid resentment and not attach its poison to them, I've become, nonetheless, less able to do so…
… though I anticipate that it will most likely pass or fade into tolerable background noise with the passing of the holidays maybe.
The day awaits.
