I spent my last $20 on Cherry rum and lemonade. This mix tastes like shit, but at least I’m writing.
I’m watching barfly. The Bukowski film. It’s not very good, but not many films are.
I’m about 4 pages short of finishing “Women” but I can’t seem to do it. Tonight I will. But it’s only 7 p.m. There’s time.
I mentioned last year how I really struggled with selling my amp. I bought it back. Not the same one, but another AC-15. Here I am, contemplating how I’m going to make it to Friday without selling it a second time. They say lighting doesn’t strike twice, but it did for me. I bought that amp twice at a cut-rate. It might strike thrice, but there’s no telling. I’ll say it again, Bukowski sold his typer to eat, I can sell this damn thing again to eat. Maybe $400, maybe 3. Who knows. I could use it. I do use it though. Although I do have this little portable.
I’m seeing someone new and I don’t care to fuck it up. My point is that, she accepts me and my faults, or rather, the one’s she knows about. But I don’t care much to come off as someone who can’t take care of their shit. Although I am that someone. You get the idea.
This movie’s almost over. Thank christ. They made one of Factorum in ‘05 apparently. Shit’s getting real hairy at the end here though. The character’s a cartoon of a man, but you get used to him, attached.
I didn’t do much today. I’m embarrassed and ashamed and disgusted I didn’t do much of a god damned thing today. I read and wrote a bit. Maybe I’ll have a heart attack from this un-diagnosed hyperthyroidism today. It’s a thing I swear, but who knows.
I have 3 books on deck. one bought, one borrowed, one pre-ordered and delivered last week. I’m not sure what the future’s bringing. But god I think it’s good. I have to. If not, I’m not sure I can handle another heartache, another break, another mistake to “learn from”, another fucking year of it all.
If bad shit’s coming down the pike, I’m going all in and checking out.