Alone.
Sprig.
Teeth.
Novel.
IRC.
Yeah, I have to admit it. I'm alone. I'm alone among millions. I live in a city of eight million people, and one would think that I would know at least ten that I can hang out with on a daily basis. That's what a job is for. You have co-workers that you see everyday. You have a circle of human beings that you have to say hello to. Many you know by name, many you don't, but you see them every day. When you are unemployed, this is gone. You are actually more alone.
I mean, I have my brother, and the people that work in the Starbucks that we frequent, but other than that I'm at a loss. I guess I can stop bitching now, but alone is a bitch. I like it sometimes. I like having time to myself, to think for myself, to do for myself. I like the aloneness...if that's a word. I'm not afraid of being alone. There is a certain quality to it. It builds character if you can believe it. No man is an island, this I know, but how about a peninsula?
I got a sprig of a plant for my altar, did I tell you? It looked like it wasn't going to make it...but that was damn near a week ago. Now it looks like it's going to pull out of it and do something. Today, it looks like it's dying again. Great. On again, off again living things. I have a black thumb. The only plant that I ever grew was the one that my ex-wife left me. That son-of-a-bitch. I pulled the bastard up from it's pot, refused to water it, took it out of the sun. I did everything the kill it. You know, that little motherfucker would not die!!?? I swear to god, that tough cocksucker kept growing and growing until I gave up trying to kill it and started feeding it water and sunlight, and it just grew and grew. I realized that I was taking my anger out on it that should have been directed at my Ex. How bad of me.
I don't think this sprig is as hearty. That's what happens when you're by yourself too long. You get attached to anything living in your room. You'll start to treat it like a person...and then you're fucked in the head. You've been alone too long. That's just my take on it. I have to keep reminding myself that this little sprig is just a sprig and not a real person. I know that plant people say that you should talk to your plants because they feed off the carbon dioxide, but that's bullshit. They want to to believe that so that you spend your time rattling off to something that has no fucking ears. That's the way I see it. You're talking to something that doesn't understand a word that you are saying. Now if you think you're coming apart because you are alone, you need to seriously think about that.
Teeth. Yeah, my teeth are starting to act up. I was doing preven- tative main- tenance when I was in the shelter. There was a dental van that would drop by every now and then, and I went once or twice. I was told that I had very good teeth with no problems. Now I grit my teeth, meaning that there is something wrong. There is some pain, but I don't know actually if it's from my teeth or from grinding them.
If something goes wrong with my teeth, the only recourse that I will have to to go to a dentistry school and have one of their sawbones look in my mouth. That'll be fun having student dentists drilling into your head. I can see it now, having so much pain that my hands deform the armrests of the dentist chair. I'm going to be fucked if my teeth give up on me now. I am so close to getting shit done....arrgh.
I say that because I've finished one of my novels. The detective fiction one. I have to read it again to add depth and check facts, but the skeletal framework is done. One or two edits and it should be ready for publishers. I clearly want to finish this fuck for real. It would be nice to have something saleable for a change. Everything else is in a state of flux. A state of unfinished. I want to close the book on many of them. Maybe too soon, maybe too late, but I would like to get this done.
I haven't been on IRC in awhile. I think I beat my addiction back down. I have an addictive personality. I can overdo things, this much I know. I can be intense and forceful when need be. I have that talent. Sometimes it works for me quite well. I get the job done, people get out of my way. Sometimes it works against me. I stumble over my own feet. I wonder if it is anything tied into being alone. When your life is whittled down, it's easy to focus on the few things left available to you. Like my little sprig.
Well, as long as I don't hear him talking to me all is good.
Fuck the LUVOX, I'll need more ABILIFY!
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/06/considering-knowledge-of-plants.html
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