omitted piece

Missing the feeling of her hair in my hands, and stroking the side of her face, eyes closed; I watch her body, and the way her head hangs, as she stands near the sheets and sunlight to her back, coming in from the window, the street being ours, with no-one around, for miles and a half.  we smile to ease the moment, to keep the mood light, to show our feelings are in check, and all the things we've done, that might have hurt each other, none of them matter anymore, none of them matter right now, as we unwrap the presents, and the gifts under the lit tree.  As we see what we save for each other, and the not so difficult struggle we've shared in keeping this fire.  Feeling her shoulder blades against my palms, reminded of the first smile she gave me, and the days we wore sunglasses on the highway, driving next to the beach, and how we've always been together, this life between us.  we've added so many things, to each other.  Always by my side, I rub the back of her neck and breathe to her ear, the freckles dancing with her hales.  Each Christmas, something special, and every other day, even when I check my email and see something written from her... those moments we would both move in silence, those moments the fabric would crinkle and the nations quiet.

Lighting the way, through my dark paths, she leads me to a nibble, against her warm skin.  Slight sweat now, a change in pace as I feel the window is definitely closed, and like a sauna in here, she pulls me close, harder with an exhale.  I feel the softness of her tongue when I gently slide mine across her bottom lip.  we pull away, and kiss once, again. our hamds searching, and wiggling through the crevices, through the ridges of our bodies and stationary movements...

   so im about six to seven hours away from finishing the second draft.  After this, Ill just order another physical copy.. and if changes need to be made, then ill spend about another three hours making the changes (next week) and hopefully by mid april this thing will be done.

   I was thinking about checking out the Lake today (Elsinore)... I havent been to it since I moved here.. I can see it just fine from the street, but I want to physically stand on the shore, maybe get in the water or something, but right now I feel like Polyester and its internal bleeding are more important.. as in, this may not be my most successful work, its definitely the best, I know that, but more along the lines like.. if I see the lake today, forget about grinding this bitch out.. then my future opportunites dwindle.

   this book will help me move to more places, the completion of this work will assist me to visit more Lakes...

   And maybe not even this particular work.. but I feel like the creation and completion of this work has shown me, taught me alot.  Helped me stand on some balance i've never felt before.. not just in the writing, but in the uniqueness of my style.. and I know that for my next book.. I know the lessons I learned from dealing with this one.. I know that ill be a better artist, a better writer.. all that shit.  So anyways, im kinda sad that its almost over, but im more than happy with what ive produced.. I think its going to change some ideas, I think its going to challenge even the most rigid thinkers.  I hope it does, at least.. my little morbid science fiction computer story.. its actually kinda lengthy now.. but like I said, six or seven more hours today.. I have food, I have water.  I have pillows.  and just like the billy corgan song:  I'm ready...

Eee nah knee-ah Ah, domino cabberkneeee

  you know how when youre writing an essay for school or something, and every little word drastically changes the whole format of the paper? if you put a word here, somewhere down there the lines are all messed up, and now the sentences don't look even on the page? it like auto indents somewhere random after you put in a period or something? multiply that little essay you think is hard, multiply it by like forty nine, and thats basically what im facing right now.

I cant stress this enough,

   but you honestly think books, and two hundred perfectly formatted pages just come from nowhere? it takes fucking WORK. and i know this blog is now basically a digital back alley of  sick, and twisted rants that mean nothing to anyone else, but holy shit.. what is everyone else doing right now? im sitting on my ass hammering out sentences and trying to bring in corners, and inputting pictures, and marking off some of the words ive used so i can keep track of where everything's at.

   its a two headed, unforgetful, unforgiving bitch that wont let me sleep. The deadline is closing in, time is running out, and im fucking going crazy.  ive kept most of the images, and plotlines, and all that... ive kept it all "under wraps" because when i unleash this beast, im probably going to lose all my facebook friends, and im probably going to get kicked out of the place i live in because of what's come out of my head onto paper. its all science based, its all about math, its all about death, and theres a section about the peace of surrender in suicide. Worse off, im worried about how this work will be received because i personally had to go insane to write this, I personally had to come up with more than fifty names in this work, and create lists of countries i wanted to include, and all this other bullshit that is so miniscule in detail, i doubt anyone will really grasp how deep this shit is, and its just fucking depressing to me, id rather just release it to my family or something than try to chance it with the average reader to be honest. sorry if i offended you, but fuck.

"art stress" fucking sucks.

   I'm here, re-doing some of the formatting, and font sizing, and all that... I just opened the file, I have the first draft sitting next to me in a soft cover form, and I just had this moment of like "ohh, fuck!"

   The thing is pretty deep in content, maybe not in physicality due to the sizing and DPI and printing issues, and bullshit like that, but anyways, theres hella words just looking back at me, and every word, every sentence ultimately means something.  Every link in the chain has a purpose, just like every word in this story.. and I have these big ideas to re-format, and re-size here and there, and add in a bunch of lines I wrote... I mean a ton of content I wrote, but anyways... I equate this whole moment with having a kid.  Yes.  Having a child.  A son to be exact.

   I pretty much have this kid looking back at me, and I just feel like:  Ohhhh shhhhhittttt!

   Something that started out kinda fun, and kinda dreamy.. It's all pretty serious, and out of control now.  It's here, it's alive.. it's hair is crazy, its future is dependent on me, and im dependent on the kid in return.

I thought artwork, and writing, and publishing, and all that.. I thought it was supposed to be fun, but now its just a two headed bitch

action1

im here, tonight.

   All day, thinking about my next novel.  I have the Polyester files open, and ive been working hard on the finishing touches of this project.. and im at that time again, where im sort of standing at the summit of another project completed.. looking off into the distance at my writing career/artist's future, and right now.. I think I got it.  I have one project that may or may not be coming to DVD.. Im going to look into getting this snowball rolling in the next few days as I wrap up Polyester.. and for my next book?  I think it'll be announced soon.

me And her, just laying in bed and listening to Pearl Jam... one of those days I will never forget

yes, I am an Aries.

   there are very few spiritual things that I believe in... I will spare you all the laundry list of matters I believe hold keys to the truth.. Spiritual teachings, and leaders, and ancient, sacred texts and all that.. Yes, I do believe in some of them, I do believe that some people (passed and present) have been able to tap into the truth of this world, and all that... but let me tell you.. it is absolutely SHOCKING how accurate my horoscope can be at times.. I really do believe in astrology.  I do believe that there is something, or someone out there in the cosmos.. out there in the night sky, out there moving the planets, and stars.. and these bodies can reflect a certain energy that coincides with our moods, our existence, our circumstances and all that..

   anyways, my horoscope was so dead on today.. its pretty scary.

   Little back story.. today something happened at work, so I took matters into my own hands and ended up losing my job because of it.  check out my horoscope from today.. If only I had read this beforehand...

   "Watch for the tendency to make a drama out of something little today, dear Aries. Although it's likely to play out in your mind only, there is no need to get worked up over something that is unlikely to come to pass. Don't ignore the real problem, which is more likely to be inner restlessness or unhappiness. Look before you leap today. As well, it's especially important to avoid launching entirely new projects today. Judgment is not clear right now. Transportation may not be straightforward today." 

   crazy, huh?  Well.  I have to go back tomorrow.. I guess theres some shit I need to sign, and collect my documents and all that, but yeah.

You win sometimes, you lose sometimes.  I lost today.  Really.

just another fucking day in polyesterland, sometimes I hate being me

   at this point, im sick of this shit.  I worked on this graphic/image last night.. its supposed to be a page in Polyester.. its supposed to be a picture that coincides with the theme of this work, but FUCK.. ive been at this for going on two days now.

   im the type of person that is constantly critiquing my work, and my life, and what ive accomplished at this point, or how the image looks compared to the other images in this work, compared to the other images in all my other books, compared to the videos on my Youtube channel, compared to the artwork that im into in general.

   I imagine the Iroquois, or the Pawnee or the Sioux or something, I imagine them kinda looking at all the vegetation, and their crops, and their corn, and their weed, or whatever else they grew, and just kinda being pissed off because of all of a sudden their crops became their life.. shit, their crops WERE their lives.. the crops meant the future of their village, or their camp or whatever they called it.  And in my mind I sort of equate artwork (the creation of) as a sort of competitor to gardening.. as in.. I dont have a garden right now, but this is the next best thing, if not better than gardening.. working on artwork I mean.  But now im at this point where the book has grown to be so deep, or so large, or something like that... its become so personal now that I feel like its my duty, or my responsibility to finish this thing.  It's a horrible feeling.   

   maybe it takes a certain type of person to sit here, without any friends, without any contact without any plans for the rest of the day, or week, or two months but to finish this piece that I started, this fucking BOOK.  im talking hundreds of pages, thousands of words, names, subplots, research... its like im throwing away a combined three years of my life just to complete a few books that nobody even really reads.. work that nobody is really inspired by, work that few people get into.  work that challenges very few thinkers... maybe im just having a moment, or a few hours of just like "fuck, why am i doing this shit?".. If I was a guitar player.. by now I wouldve smashed a few amps, I wouldve gotten into some bad jams at some important gigs.. I wouldve told some fans to fuck off, I wouldve showed up to some shows completely wasted, and unable to sing.. I just think about dudes like Da vinci, or Rembrandt, or Caravaggio, or David.. people, dudes that spent YEARS on one piece.. commissioned by a king or something to paint a ceiling, and take half a decade of their life in some alien city, working tirelessly, and being bugged by their students, not getting laid, not eating properly.. all that shit.  the life of a failing artist.  it fucking sucks, and right now, in my newly purchased room in Lake Elsinore.. im doing just that.. wondering why the fuck did I make a decision to sign on for this, and why the fuck does it have to be polyester.. im just at a point where I want to scrap the thing and take up something new.. like selling my car and taking all my money and just moving somehwere else, somewhere far where I dont have to think about this bullshit

me 2013.. on hiatus from taming the beast