New York City Blues

WARNING - Suicidal Ideation

August 16, 2020

I’m here!! I can’t believe it. After all the saving and scrimping to get by, I’m here in my dream city. I love this loft. It’s worth every bit of the $2000 per month. I’m finally going to be able to write. I’m finally going to be able to pen my great American novel. Well, I better get started.

August 20, 2020

I wish I’d realized the fridge in this apartment was so tiny. I’ve had to go out to the markets every day this week. Food is expensive, too. But I’m managing. Writers don’t need much. Just good bottled water, a great bottle of wine, a loaf of bread, and good cheese.

August 24, 2020

It’s Monday, again. I tried to call my Mom, but she must be at work already. My cell phone hasn’t chirped hardly at all. I guess since I told everyone to NOT call because I’d be busy writing, they actually listened to me. On the bright side, I finished the first chapter yesterday. I think the book will be successful.

August 25, 2020

Another entry. It feels like the only person I communicate with is this electronic journal. And even it feels sterile and bare. Just like the walls of this loft. Why on earth did I pack so little? I miss my artwork and family pictures.

I miss a lot of things and people.

August 26, 2020

I actually met someone today. A stray dog came up to me when I was on the way home from the market. He looked horribly lonely and hungry. I gave him half of my bread and about a fourth of my cheese. He gulped it down and licked my hand. And then he was off. I watched him until he turned the corner about a block down.

I wish I could’ve gone with him.

August 27, 2020

I didn’t go to the market today. I’m not really hungry. At least not for food. I wish I had someone to bounce ideas off of. I tried to reach out to my online community of writers. Everyone is offline. I read what they post, but I feel completely detached.

So much for the starving artist thing.

August 28, 2020

I broke down and called the cable company. Unfortunately, since this is NYC, the first appointment they have available for installation is over two weeks away. Oh well. At least I have something to look forward to. It will be much like it was when I was a kid. No matter how much my mother left me alone, I always had Ma and Pa Ingalls.

I just re-read that. That’s really sad and pitiful. Pretty much like my life now.

August 29, 2020

I haven’t been able to write much for the past week. Chapter Two just won’t come together. My MC is acting like a stick figure, and the supporting characters aren’t doing a great job of building her up. They aren’t even tearing her down – they’re just there.

Sleep is getting harder to come by. Maybe today I’ll take a long walk.

August 30, 2020

Apparently, it’s not a good idea to go for a long walk in Greenwich Village. Thieves seem to be attracted to the loft district. I guess if you can afford to live here, you have something to steal. I didn’t have much on me. I only take enough money to either shop at the market or grab something I see from the street vendors.

In fact, I think the guy felt sorry for me. He threw me a five-dollar bill as he was running away. I guess even criminals have a code of honor. But, not the cops. They spent more time telling me how stupid it was to be walking around alone than getting information about the guy.

They told me there’s zero chance of recovering any of my funds.

That’s great.

August 31, 2020

This morning, a bird flew in through the upper part of my window. I leave it open for airflow, but the little bird was more than happy to come inside and land in my kitchen.

I was sitting at the counter eating eggs and toast, so I threw him a few crumbs. The little guy was so happy, he moved closer and closer. Eventually, he was on the counter and practically eating out of my hand. New York birds are strange!

But it was fun while it lasted. Just like the dog, when he’d had his fill, he flew away.

I guess I should give chapter two another try.

September 1, 2020

My mother called this morning. She was more chatty than usual. Seems that she and her new boyfriend are planning to go to Las Vegas for a week, and then they made plans for Thanksgiving, too.

She told me that she knew I wouldn’t mind that she didn’t come to spend the holiday with me. After all, I’m busy with my writing, right?

Right.

After talking to my mother, I deleted my entire manuscript. I would rather start over than try to salvage the crummy storyline I’d started. Maybe a fresh start will invigorate me.

September 8, 2020

The loft smells. I just realized I haven’t been out since the end of August. I don’t think I’ve showered either. I mean, who’s going to notice, right?

Bottled water, ramen noodles, and an egg once in awhile make for a crazy diet, but I don’t care. I’m writing. I’m really writing. I even made an outline for the rest of the book. I need to get back. My characters are calling me.

September 15, 2020

I’ve never been so happy. Last night, me and my MC drank every drop of wine I had in the house. She really is a fun girl. I don’t understand why she doesn’t have more friends. In fact, we’ve made a pact.

Today, we are going to take a big step together. She planned everything out perfectly. For the sake of research, I’m going to simulate hanging myself. She says it will make my book so much better.

Okay, here goes. I have the noose around my neck. I better climb up on the stool.

More later.