the plan is coming together and while sometimes the words flow diahrheally, other times it takes some squeezing and sweating to get the agreed upon number of words on the page to meet my daily quota. a little spit and polish and maybe some editing and one day very soon you will be able to ignore the publication i will be appearing in instead of just ignoring the blogs...you can take your disdain for my words to new levels! woo hoo
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
just in case things shake out the way i am immagining them to be im putting aside the booze unless it has a direct bearing on promoting my agenda. this just in my old agenda, sad old fat loser alcoholic is undergoing an upgrade. if you came by hear to pity, scorn or just are slowing down to get a better view of the traffic accident on the roadside that is my life im sorry to have to tell you that the emergency rescue squads and the tow truck have done their job. that six car pileup you heard about that is slowing traffic on the schuykill expressway to a crawl has been cleaned up and traffic is starting to flow normally once again.
i was heading down the schuykill yesterday with two destinations in mind. the mummers were doing their thing and ive had alot of fine times witnessing their particular form of carnage and been delighted to take a very small part in the proceedings. i was headed that way but began to reflect on the fact that the best way to do it would be to do it as a mummer, with the yearlong buildup of planning and meetings and celebrations and all the manly bonding that happens in that timeframe. it was with nostalgia then, that i asked the floor guy to put the mummers on the telly at the chester harrahs poker room.
a poker tournament is a zero sum game. nihilism. communism. luck. 90 people sat down to compete for a 1500 dollar first prize. a poker tournament is basically an equal mix of guessing, lying, greed, attention whoring and anger. people play poker for various reasons. many seem to be playing to punish themselves for something. their decisions seem less about the statistics and probabilities that govern solid money making play and more about some hidden masochism. nothing is created at a poker tournament. 90 percent of the particiapants go home with less money that they started with. the people who call themselves good at this game can tilt that ten or so percentage points in their favor but that still makes them mostly losers. but its better than working for a living and if you like spending days and days with unkempt, unsavory, predatory manipulators then poker is the game for you.
two roads diverged in the woods that used to have a whole lot less cookie cutter mansions in them. i took the road towards the future. whatever that may be. i left nostalgia in the rearview and vowed that when i did return it would be with a few good stories other that my recent story, dude gets real lucky and goes on a 6 week bender to the west coast and returns almost broke needing work. thats a sad story. so lets not make that happen. lets lie to myself one more time about how greatness is within reach. that words are the way i work on relaity and bend and shape it to a form that pleases me. ive been a liquid lately.immered in liquid spirits, going with the flow. it suits me to not have definte plans but doesnt suit me to just float like a jelly fish. im a different type of aquatic life in that i need to be in a current to be happy, flowing somewhere, not stuck in the great sargasso of sorrow. the torpid, unmoving, never changing, evermoist world of the alocholic. got to come out of this self imposed coma every now and again to take stock, get a feel for the world again before retreating back to my cave for the final chapter. old crazy hillbilly in the woods. that looms. nows the time to spread my message of mirth and be on my way.
sagasso of sorrow sounds like a title. so does sargasso sea of sorrow and symphony of nihilsm. thats 45 minutes of writing and 20 of correspondence giving me lets call it an hour of writing. coffee break and then back at it. maybe a little workout. keep to the plan, the secret plan, the plan for love, harmony, beauty, gratefullness and self defined success. the rest should take care of itself. work outward from my happyp[[lace. welcome to my happy place. thansk for stopping by!
i was heading down the schuykill yesterday with two destinations in mind. the mummers were doing their thing and ive had alot of fine times witnessing their particular form of carnage and been delighted to take a very small part in the proceedings. i was headed that way but began to reflect on the fact that the best way to do it would be to do it as a mummer, with the yearlong buildup of planning and meetings and celebrations and all the manly bonding that happens in that timeframe. it was with nostalgia then, that i asked the floor guy to put the mummers on the telly at the chester harrahs poker room.
a poker tournament is a zero sum game. nihilism. communism. luck. 90 people sat down to compete for a 1500 dollar first prize. a poker tournament is basically an equal mix of guessing, lying, greed, attention whoring and anger. people play poker for various reasons. many seem to be playing to punish themselves for something. their decisions seem less about the statistics and probabilities that govern solid money making play and more about some hidden masochism. nothing is created at a poker tournament. 90 percent of the particiapants go home with less money that they started with. the people who call themselves good at this game can tilt that ten or so percentage points in their favor but that still makes them mostly losers. but its better than working for a living and if you like spending days and days with unkempt, unsavory, predatory manipulators then poker is the game for you.
two roads diverged in the woods that used to have a whole lot less cookie cutter mansions in them. i took the road towards the future. whatever that may be. i left nostalgia in the rearview and vowed that when i did return it would be with a few good stories other that my recent story, dude gets real lucky and goes on a 6 week bender to the west coast and returns almost broke needing work. thats a sad story. so lets not make that happen. lets lie to myself one more time about how greatness is within reach. that words are the way i work on relaity and bend and shape it to a form that pleases me. ive been a liquid lately.immered in liquid spirits, going with the flow. it suits me to not have definte plans but doesnt suit me to just float like a jelly fish. im a different type of aquatic life in that i need to be in a current to be happy, flowing somewhere, not stuck in the great sargasso of sorrow. the torpid, unmoving, never changing, evermoist world of the alocholic. got to come out of this self imposed coma every now and again to take stock, get a feel for the world again before retreating back to my cave for the final chapter. old crazy hillbilly in the woods. that looms. nows the time to spread my message of mirth and be on my way.
sagasso of sorrow sounds like a title. so does sargasso sea of sorrow and symphony of nihilsm. thats 45 minutes of writing and 20 of correspondence giving me lets call it an hour of writing. coffee break and then back at it. maybe a little workout. keep to the plan, the secret plan, the plan for love, harmony, beauty, gratefullness and self defined success. the rest should take care of itself. work outward from my happyp[[lace. welcome to my happy place. thansk for stopping by!
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