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thoughtkick

“I want to be with you, it is as simple, and as complicated as that.”

— Charles Bukowski

metamorphesque

― Albert Camus, Notebooks: 1935-1951

red-ibis-red

Might it be true that half of freedom is the willingness to take it when it’s offered?

—Rachel Cusk, Second Place

Woodford 12/30

It isn't a lack of truth; I overthink entirely too much, but level with me..this isn't the first time & very similar circumstances & I'm not sure if this is some universal test? Karmic retribution for my past mistakes, maybe this is nothing at all, but if that were the case, then why am I up at 5:53 on a Saturday morning deep in a glass of whisky untangling the infinite hypotheticals...? Surely, this pusillanimous state I'm in, the endless synapses firing off that are slowly drowning in the double oak barrel reserve being forced down my throat for the fear of any unpleasant crossroad because I LOATHE the lows .. potential for them anyhow. Happy New Years Eve Eve

Christmas was good. We spent time with her family to which I discovered that crime, specifically shoplifting, was decriminalized in New York? The jury is still deliberating this no pun intended. In all seriousness, it was a beautiful experience. I remember when my Grandamommy's house was once teeming with love. Granted, we didn't have nearly as many members, that's not to say my mother's house isn't overabundant in love, but I lost track of the amount of people & being quizzed 5 minutes on Aunt Dina & Cousin Madelyn & who has on the orange top with black bottom versus who has on black top with orange bottom can somewhat paint the picture for the swaths of individuals. Uncle Shawn's a good guy. Eagles fan or not, I could talk sports & shoot the shit with him until the last grain of sand fell from my hourglass, as long as some cowboys fans were there hah

I'm going to try therapy soon. I wonder how Kurt felt, or was that just a fleeting thought. The most recent still of he playing a guitar juxtapose a girl wearing something of a tie dye Nirvana shirt with the bold print "Disrespectful" stamped across the screen shot through my mind like a comet. I'm not sure it would've mattered to him at this point of his life had he still been with us. Fathering his daughter seemed to be of utmost importance to him prior to his death, why should we believe that would change? My focus is similar, despite my vice to the brown stuff, I want to nurture & grow all my relationships. Maybe therapy is the answer for me. One office turned me down & another didn't respond. The third said they couldn't help while they offered a suggestion, so maybe they did help after all. We'll see, I hope. As I sit here at 6:13, contemplating what's next... I know I'm going to keep reading. My father would appreciate that. Oh, Update on my Pop Pop, he is doing better from last I spoke with Aunt Pat & my dad. I wish I wasn't under the weather so I could see him.

What was the root cause of the Civil War? That is the new point of contention for the internet discourse among troglodytes, or at least one of them. I'm just glad it isn't "if he invites you on a date, should you split the bill if he asks" because i'm tired. WE are not a monolith either, but damn! Well, who am I to judge, I find joy in watching minecraft videos from time to time & my humor is so broken... I cannot be the first to cast a stone or call the kettle black.

I'm not sure if i'm drunk or it does feel good to write like this. I used to be a poet, you know? if you take some time & scroll, you'll see. That's if anyone else is actually reading this. Or, & I sometimes feel like these little rants are for me to look back over, maybe you should scroll down, yourself, writer & see what you've done. Give yourself a bit of a jolt that you need. Lil prognostication here. Put it together 2024.. all of it. Make the people around you proud. Whoever isn't around, wish them the same. No need to say fuck em, that mantra is adopted by one too many & we

see how the world is turning out now, don't we. Genocides are filmed with no definite end in sight. Whether it be for something like this: a laptop to type my first world problems on or the direct attempt at the erasure of a Palestinian people in the Gaza Strip.. we've lost sight of Humanitarianism. I know, these are the hot button topics, but what happens when they turn cold? What happens when the news cycle filters in a new story that captivates the audiences across the world? Are we to forget the atrocities that occurred under our watchful eye. This needs its own section(see here for the reason of break midsentence). Are we doomed to these primitive ways of conflict resolution? I'd hope not, otherwise dystopian novelists have some explaining to do & why were they not picking lotto tickets instead of shaping the landscape for my future? How selfish of me...so many other people in desolate corners of the world, with little to no hope of survival & here we are.. what type of Chai would you like, sir? Pathetic. Even though a chai latte sounds nice, from your local coffeeshop, because its f*** the Bucks, it just confirms this whole disconnect from the rest of the world. That isn't to say that I don't face my own issues as a Black man, but I could rant less...I could do a bit more for other people...being denied from a therapist really frustrated me while people gave birth & lost their newborn because one group of people, backed by an empire, decided that they were not important enough to live.

I pocket these thoughts...because...well I don't know... Jigglypuff

#life #love #writer's community #free write #feelings #family #journal #jigglypuff #newyear2024 #therapy #solitude #rant #drunk

Autism? Bukowski

"I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody is asleep. I say, I know that you're there so don't be sad." - Bukowski

Here we are, post pre Christmas & I've got a miniature buzz; nothing too intense. Woodford Reserve(i'm repulsed at my inability to recall the spelling without google) is decent. Slowly trying to no longer engage in addictions that no longer serve a purpose.

Things are different when you live with another person. Not in a bad way or anything, but–sidebar I've taken a couple online tests & they believe that I am mildly autistic. My mother seemed to prevaricate when confronted with this & she posited that it was actually ADD, given to me from my father. The sins of, although I don't really believe that would be or should be considered a sin of sorts...

I remember when I felt like him. I remember those words seemingly etched into my soul; carved into my skin like some sort of pact made with the deceased that we would be one & the same, you see? "It's my speciality; cement hearts & beautiful bodies. If you can find a heart there, let me know." & then there was one whose heart still bled with more warmth than Helios. She lies alone, there in the back. she ponders whether my love is still hers & hers alone because my hands are pressing keys & not wrapped around her waist in deep sleep, but I'd find myself lost in the mundanity of it all if I couldn't tell you of last night.

I found myself envisaging a dive into the Potomac. Departing from Georgetown; the lights were dim, the night whispered softly. Reticent to speak of the languor because it would seem that I felt time was in my hand & I had personally shattered the hourglass; this simply is not the case. The idea crossed my mind simply due to my own thoughts of mortality. How have I made it this far? How would I respond to the water crashing into the sealed vehicle? Would this seal my fate? Would I calmly accept or would the desire to live consume me how the pitch black would race through the cracked window? I've stared down the barrel of a pistol, my lungs have failed, discovered the body of my Grandmother that I loved dearly & I wonder why death is so fickle in nature. This isn't to say that it is that what I seek, but sometimes... sometimes I wonder & in that moment, my hands almost let go & I almost tested the limits of my humanity. Is that too much? I shouldn't wander too much, I don't think.

I'd rather be honest than not. & I do love her. I believe she loves me too.

"Then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our little secret pact and its nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?"

-1220

#life #writer #life is strange #charles bukowski #free write #feelings #journal #love #poetry #autism #maybe

I should've addressed that first line better 12/14

"Compartmentalize." That is what she said to me regarding my brother & the realization I was coming to about his relationship. "Throuple" is what my mom calls it, but I'm not so sure it is so. Our neighbors walk home with such force... like what the entire fuck caused you to, what seems like, try & crash your foot through the steps & into our living room. I could be complaining just because I'm awake, but what if she awakens because of this inconsiderate c*ck. Should I refrain from using that word? Those moments are no more clandestine than the "blackmail" my brother had on me. It was just a panel on hentai...nothing crazy...not like the woman sitting next to Breen & myself, frothing at the mouth, but we don't shame here.

"...It hasn't told us/About the gutters/or the suicides" - Charles Bukowski. He was always very raw; understood the transience enough to speak urgently. Almost as if the last grain of sand was a second too close & the glass would shatter, losing himself & time itself. He saw through the curtain, the double sided mirror that reflected happiness into the eyes of the blind. There's an impermanence you knew nothing of when you roamed through those elementary schools wide eyed, drinking your chocolate milk trading pokemon cards waiting for mom to pick you up in the soccer van; there are pigs in blankets & fries waiting for you & you know it. They won't tell you about how you are the pig, searching for the blanket before thrown into the slaughterhouse, mowed down for all that you have, even the scraps; the parts of you that you don't even want.. you're going to be used. They can't tell you that though, you're blissfully ignorant.. you were blissfully ignorant then & you're arrogantly ignorant now; have a drink & shut up.

I don't know what to read next. I should finish the book I started, but i'm somewhat in a rut right now. I should rotate elsewhere & come back. That's what we think, yeah? Yeah, answered all the characters that love to hang out. She's sleeping so peacefully. i'm almost jealous but i'm soon to pass out. These eyes tear up with every yawn. Maybe i'll have something interesting to say later, but right now... its bed time.

edit- I got a movado today & i'm really happy with the purchase. I'm going to buy some more clothes. goodnight

#writer #journal #feelings #free write #charles bukowski #writer's community #life #family

Feelings 12/12.. I think?

My grandfather thought they were killing him. I'm not sure if this was before or after he attempted to wrap the cords around his own neck in the hospital; Oxy is never good. I wish I never knew how good they hurt recreationally... They removed a tumor from his brain & he's left by himself among a people that are paid to care for him at night.. they weren't there in line waiting at White Castle while he told a story from his childhood that fell on deaf ears because two boys from different worlds come together, their grandfathers happen to be brothers. i'm sure Uncle Thomas misses him. One day those gates will open & with open arms, he'll welcome my grandfather... later, rather than sooner...I just wish he could see how much he means to us; how much he means to me. Stay with us just a little bit longer. I'm not sure what it would do to your son, but that would be selfish of us. What is the right answer when it comes to death? Are we asking too much when we hold on? Who should bear the weight of the pain; those living with it, or those that will? One must imagine Sisyphus happy, I wonder if we all have a bit of Sisyphus in us; we know how the story concludes, right? The immutable end.

Old man winter; a lovely Ale & why this scarf is wrapped around my neck. The ephemeral is this: a glass pint glass reads "Absolut Vodka," fleeting thoughts of death as the second-hand ticks in the background of My Fellow Creatures by Carlos Cipa as she sleeps peacefully in the other room. I discussed the US opposing a ceasefire within the Gaza Strip the other day with a friend & despite its transience, I felt a life renewed. Angela Davis spoke on the importance of understanding the intersectionality of these movements in order for freedom to truly exist, without the comprehension of how all the oppressed intertwine, we can never reach our fullest potential & upend the structured inequality that has suppressed so many for so long. Palestine is integral to a free people across the world & this genocidal epoch will determine who we are as a humankind. it doesn't require much critical thought to decipher who is at fault...but whether we do what it right despite the pressures of the powers that be...that is what will define us going forward as a people.

I'm ranting, I know. This is the first time I've expressed myself in written form in so long though, so relaxing as I stare at the Albert Camus on the shelf. I swear i'm not pretentious or a prick; i'm more self-effacing if anything, but that feels completely opposite when I say it..

The state of Texas has gotten the case of Kate Cox incorrect on the supreme level & who is to fix this? Since the days of Adam & Eve, we understand the libidinous male, but this controlling agency, the need to police the Woman is quite disheartening..we have lost who we are & the hubris of Man will prove to be quite damning when it is all said & done, I feel. How many others will have to risk their lives before we revisit Roe v Wade & undo what should've never been done in the first place? Stripping a woman of her autonomy over her own body, but who am I but just a man...drinkin' beer, vodka, & whisky dancing around his own feelings. Are these even connected? Should they relate? I haven't cried in awhile, does that mean I will become great? I don't know, I just wanted to rhyme.

Donna Tartt has one of my favorite interviews. She just feels so confident in her speaking in spite of the interviewer, whats seems like at times, trying to talk over her. I really need to finish Secret History & The Goldfinch, however I'm reading The Condition of Postmodernity by David Harvey. Are Identity Politics the problem? I had a slew of questions with responses typed out but I figured I would delete them because who cares about any of that, right? We'd rather focus on the drunk chronicles. I should make a TikTok video, maybe my first & last one ever. Trigger Warning, but i'm not referring to unaliving.. but more so, I am not the TikTok type. I'm not going to make a video. Okay, you've said that already.

December; your melancholy eyes

& facaded smile

Your desire; April, but she's preoccupied with May

& the flowers she brings.

But I'll never leave you alone

I'd miss the sugar cookies, gingerbread homes.

Countless carols of words I barely even know.

My grandfather loves your songs

But I love & I'd miss him so much more

please give him hope to keep holding on.

#life #poetry #feelings #albert camus #vent #love #family #free write #journal

thoughtkick

First say to yourself what you would be, then do what you have to do.

Epictetus (via thoughtkick)

writingdotcoffee

A story should entertain the writer, too.

Stephen King (via writingdotcoffee)

blackeneddeatheye

クリスタルウェーブ

pi-slices

Night Waves - 200209

Because it is dangerous to ignore the existence of the irrational. the more cultivated a person is, the more intelligent, the more repressed, then the more he needs some method of channeling the primitive impulses he's worked so hard to subdue.

Julian Morrow ; The Secret History

#the secret history #donna tartt