Projct#03272020

It is so damn beautiful out here. The essence of my soul feels as though it is being hugged by the surrounding environment. By the surrounding environment? And I think I’m a writer. I cannot even describe my inner feelings in a flair that nibs at the dopamine of the brain. Hmmm. That sounded kind of good – maybe not. I do not really know anymore. Really. I look up to the sky and smell the air. I feel quant and calm. I breathe in a couple of times and hear the chirping of happy birds. Fluttering in flocks of merry feather darts zipping across the sky. Majestic in their swiftness against the wind. I wish to one day feel that freedom. As, a human – are we supposed to just relish in the harmony of the world around us and be deterred from participating in its treasured adventures? These feelings are why I became a writer – I don’t know why I doubt myself. The revelries of life are ones that flow to the mind like a river to open water.

           Great, at least I know how to convince myself to keep being a writer – wish I could have the same conviction when thinking of ideas, lines, sentences, dialogue and all of that shit. Well, I guess it’s not like I could have been better at math and went into engineering or whatever. I do like buildings, structures – how they’re formed. Did want to be a singer when I was kid. Singing like a donkey ruined that aspiration.

           Wait – a singer? That would be kinda – Is that “bad to the bone” blues song playing around here? Who the hell is – oh, people are grilling (laughing to self) I did smell that hot dog char earlier, duh? Smell’s good. Makes me hungry. Such a majestic day – used that word already. Remember to diversify your vocab –Wonder if I could crash it? Think they would notice me slip away with a hot dog or two? Bag of chips? Beer…?  (laughs to self) Sounds nice, but I wouldn’t want to be like that kid running from his mom over there – but by the whole family.

           Hmmm… does the musician have a family? Is the family even going to be in it? Is he running away from some past like – that kid? Eh, probably not running away from a family past – unless maybe he is a father? Mother? I don’t write women well, at least – I do not think I do. Maybe I try to hard? I just need to practice and read more fiction that has strong women leads. I’ll have to remember that for later. Wish I had my notepad. Forgot it in the car – damnit. I like to write shit down. I know my ass won’t remember later. Oh yeah! My phone (laughs to self again). 2020, baby. I still like writing it on paper – though. It will be a lost art. For sure.

           Does the musician live in the future – past, present? Good question. Who am I talking to? It’s like I am talking to this void – or whatever. Like, an aura of energy flowing to some shiny output. What a day, man. I love how crisp the blue is in the sky. Who was god’s graphic designer? Hell, of a job. I could look at the sky for hours as a kid. So maj– breathtaking. Still feels that way. Especially, on days like this. When you get rejection after rejection and you know what – add another one in there for ya, too! Woohoo! So HAPPY!

           Calm down, Troy. You know how it is… you know how it is. (deep breath). No need to keep it on the mind, but – one last thing – it… just sucks, whatever – don’t dwell. I mean say if I do make this million-dollar hit? Get rich, sign book deals, the works; still, what would be the point? Make all that money and then complain about more shit. I wonder if I actually practiced mindfulness, as much as I read it. Am I doing it now? Have I been doing it this whole time? So many questions – NO ANSWERS.

Life and it’s questions. The never-ending cycle of problems, solutions, problems, solutions. It’s quite unbearable if you think about it – which I am.  Maybe – mindfulness – I should stop.

           If I get anything out of this day other than misery; the day will surely be testament to thinking of greener pastures. I sound so damn pessimistic. Maybe that is why my stories and poems always come out so morbid? No, I just have a dark side – I actually like horror. It’s a fun genre. I am prob just hiding my true anxieties. Pessimism. I don’t know. I am glad I am reading more on spiritual and healing. Pretty neat shit. Well, like I wanted to say to myself. The beauty is around me and I must cherish it, no matter what; just breathe sometimes, listen more than you speak. Learn, man. Learn! Be a good fucking person. I guess a lot doesn’t matter, but does? I don’t know. Being a writer has its days.

           Hey, where is she going… Normally not a fan of red hair – I mean not like I hate it, but – who I am justifying too? You normally aren’t in to red heads – there. She has books in her hands. Student? I am near Chapman. Glad I came out this way, now. I wonder where she’s off too? Would she say hi back if I introduced myself? Would she be rude? Ah, fuck it. I am going to talk to her.

Yea, hell yea. Be calm. Chill – act like … just don’t act like an ass. Say a joke or some shit. It will come to you, just don’t get too red in the face. Is my face red? Damnit, I’m getting close – boyfriend. Keep walking. Keep walking, goddammit. Always happens. That’s why I don’t even try. Wait – musician, girl, musician, girl. bubububuh bad…Dive bar… He works as a guitarist for a bar that is owned by the… red hair! Irish mafia. It’s a front – he falls in love with the daughter of the boss! Yes! AND – they have to run away from the place because they kept it on the down low and her brother also died and now the boss is in a fit of rage and they have to run… too much? I wonder if I should keep it simple? Just a boss who finds out that the musician is sleeping with the daughter – or… fuck it. I’m going to make it a novel, now. Not a short story. Let’s get twisty, baby!

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