I fell asleep around 6:30 this morning and had to get up to go to work at 8. An hour and a half worth of snooze time, made me think that today was definitely going to be a completely lost day. Some good things happened though, I wasn’t terribly tired physically, I still dragged my ass to the gym after work to go for a run,  got home and had made like $60 from my sites, and got my shipment of fragrance samples (some of which are horrendous).  Not too bad. Sure, I worked the rest of the day and didn’t do any work on my other projects but whatever.

Anyways, the reason I started to write this post was because the 1.5 hours of sleep made my thoughts interesting today. I was pretty chill all day long but I kept having daydreams and was thinking a lot about past events.  I was stuck mentally on this period of time that I spent with a girl some years back BUT the twist was that in my daydream I was thinking about another girl inhabiting that role instead of the original one.

Actresses get replaced all the time but Girl B, replaced Girl A within real events, and then sort of added a layer of story line to my memories. The whole thing made me feel a sense of longing but it wasn’t really about either girl at all, it was about the moments that they inhabit within my mind.

There were a few weeks with Girl A, which were just ridiculously happy and positive. Like every moment of the day during this time, was consumed by thoughts of her and the level of love and connection was just absurd between us. I had never reached a level that intense with anybody that quickly, but just as quickly it all ended. It’s really weird to think about her now because the feelings simply aren’t there anymore, I have no contact with her, and I’m not even aware of her existence.

This all got me thinking, how much the people in our lives become like ghosts, once their initial impact fades. I honestly have trouble recalling specific instances with different girls I have been with but their memories still haunt my subconscious. The power, however, seems to lie in the moment in time itself. The memory of the time period is laden with certain feelings and triggers that the person themselves can no longer provide.

So, instead of being objects of my desire they have now by the process of time been transmuted into actresses in a scene, easily swapped out for one another based on the pleasure of my neural pathways. Replaying these scenes in my head and enhancing them or rewriting the endings feels like it is important. As if, it’s a reminder of the life experiences we lose track of while caught up in the day to day bullshit of society. I felt old  and like my mind was chasing the tail end of a fading sunset before the close of summer.

Longing and melancholy aren’t bad feelings to me, they have a certain sweetness to them, yet are constantly associated with bitterness. I like the way that they make me feel human and not like a commodity or consumer looking for my next fix of faux pleasure. The past acts as a database which I can visit and re-upload these moments and emotions to my conscious state with relative ease…but I have the distinct notion that I now want to serve up fresh moments in time, that can be stored away and revisited.

Not sure if any of this makes sense, I slept 1.5 hours and it’s now 11 PM. SLEEEPPPPPPP

There’s been a lot of talk in the media lately about technology becoming sentient and the privatization of drone aircraft and what this could all mean for the future. Now, I say a lot of talk in the media but considering I don’t consume much news at all i’m probably making that factoid up completely.

Point is, when it’s 2 AM and you can’t fucking sleep a wink, your mind starts to wander into strange territory…like the rise of the machines. The machines will take over at some point, you know assuming that there isn’t a total societal collapse due to whatever, but they seem to be making inroads already in the form of dating.

I got the digits from what I can only assume is a cyborg or automaton of some kind. I mean, a lot of hoes give me they numbers but I never call, just in case you were wondering whether or not I’ve smashed that sweet cybernetic organism. No sir, I can’t in good conscience begin the mating ritual and stick my dick into what I imagine to be a series of levers and gears or an elaborate pulley counter-weight system of some kind.

It’s for the good of humanity because when Skynet comes, it won’t be because I had comes…inside of a machine, get it? hahahazzz

On a more serious note, I wish I could get the Tinder app to work again because I miss trolling the shit out of some girls and would like to get all up in some more human pulley counter-weight systems….yadadamean?

Yeah, muhfuckas, a Skee-lo reference. Not sure if anyone under the age of 25 would get  it but whatever, no one reads this shit right now anyways.

I think I’m getting that SAD thing that people get during the winter time because I feel fucking miserable of late. Seasonal attitude disorder? Sexy Ass Dames? I’m too lazy to look up what the acronym means exactly but I’m getting convinced that I have it.

Why? The weather and atmosphere is really starting to get to me. I hate cold weather. I hate winter. I hate every aspect of this subzero wasteland I currently have to reside in. Old Man Winter and/or Jack Frost can fellate me and by fellate I mean, I would throat fuck them like they are the stars of some violent gagging video. Seriously.

Gay throat fucking of fictional characters notwithstanding, is there anything redeemable about this godforsaken season? In the past week, both Valentine’s and my birthday occurred, and I was too numb or too something to even notice. I’ve been existing but I definitely haven’t lived in what seems like a really long time.

There was no reason for this post, I’m just saying…

Will I write anything profound or deep in this post? Hardly. Don’t expect much because I cannot keep my eyes open for more than ten seconds at this point in time. However, I just now remembered that I purchased this domain exclusively for the purpose of getting out some of my thoughts in a more constructive manner. Alas, my first post comes under the heavy influence of two strawberry flavored gummies designed to knock me out so I can wake up at 6 AM and hate my existence at work for yet another day.

I miss lucid dreaming. Early in 2014, I began to experiment with becoming lucid during my dreams and was able to make some great progress on that front. Now, nothing. It’s the caffeine which I have been addicted to, which necessitates me taking melatonin in order to fall asleep. I just don’t become lucid on melatonin most of the time, especially not with caffeine. I do have vivid dreams but they are mostly amalgamations of random shit happening in my waking reality or ones which evoke some aspect of the past and put me in a weird contemplative mood for the day….fuck that noise.

I’m writing a novel. This shit has been like Dr. Dre’s Detox album. Delays Delays. Promises of getting it done yet nothing. Honestly, I probably have hundreds of thousands of now useless words on my computers with nothing to show for it. Looking back, I’m actually glad I didn’t power through and release any of that material for a couple of reasons. First, there was no coherent plot or story to any of it. Secondly, it sucks.  I have some stuff on a hard drive with my early attempts at writing a novel and it’s shocking to see the difference in my abilities over the years. That writing makes whatever drivel I’m typing at this moment look like…some great thing.

How to become a better writer?

1. Read

2. Write

I think that I’ve overloaded on the first one and the second one has suffered due to changes in my desires, thinking, and just overall shitty work ethic when it comes to fiction writing. I sometimes think that it doesn’t interest me at all. I put it off and try to avoid actually doing any writing for this novel. I’ve become more interested in philosophy and visual art than exploring the depths of a fictional character, who is only going to serve as a vehicle to express my philosophy and perceptions of the world in an easily digestible way. I could abandon it and simply put the thought away but I have finally developed a unique voice to my writing…so…….

Really it’s just like some goal that I set a long time ago, which just hangs over my head and I can’t even remember why I set it in the first place.

It gets me thinking as to what are the things in my life that I do want. Things that I actually want to do. Namely, I want freedom. Financial freedom, so that I may explore, consciousness, reality, philosophy, art, vagina beyond this immediate area code. These are my interests, don’t judge me, slutmouth. It pisses me off that I currently make hundreds of dollars a month passively but not thousands. I wake up each day hoping that Google and its search algorithm will act more favorably towards my websites and I’ll suddenly be making three times as much as I do working a job. This is a haunting thought, my prison sentence could be lifted in an instant. Imagine just having money deposited each month to your bank account and being able to do literally anything with your days.  This is already a reality, its just not enough, I’m stuck in the middle with you….

Tired as hell, was going to delve into the practical application of philosophy in everyday life and perception but I’m off to the dreamscape to hopefully have a lucid dream about cockpunching a leprechaun.