...The Right to Write - Exercise...

Initiation Tool - create "Morning Pages", writing 3 pages longhand every morning (90 days straight)

Tues. Aug. 17, 2010 - "Morning Pages" - Day #7 - Another Bay Ridge Starbucks @ 6:48 AM

Yes, another Starbucks. It's "the" place to write in New York City, it's not? Yeah, it's similar to the flocks coming from across the nation to NYC and eating at a Connecticut Muffin. I'm aware there's other places to write, and admit this is the comfortable choice. I've hated on Starbucks and will again for many righteous reasons -- but it is a good place to write, get some Wifi with that ice coffee with my name on it so I don't forget which cup is mine. That's not my cup...but I've stolen a couple sip-a-rooskies, she's clueless, otherwise why'd she be dating me? Ella Kennedy on her way?...5 years?...ok, 4?...3 1/2?...no?...ok, then back to 5...

...

I'm coming down. Was up high earlier. Another sleepless night, shot gunning my mind to many unforeseen thoughts -- unseen I hope, or you'd look at me oddly, which you already do, but believe me, it gets pretty insane when you're girlfriend's asleep and you're laughing by yourself. Even my agent, located in the right side of my head, is mocking me, saying he's a figment, or a Fig Newton of my imagination. Try jumping from the novel page you're reading now to five chapters ahead, or jump further into the middle of another book by that author, or a completely different subject all together. That's what my mind's doing when it's severely sleep deprived. I'm present with the song I'm listening to, then I'm back in middle school telling a teacher she sucks, and bursting out laughing in real time. My girlfriend mumbles awake, asking if I said anything. No, I didn't, I don't think so. And I laughed again. Oh, you're delirious again, she says. Five minutes later, I ask, "Are you awake?" Silence. Nothing. "Oh, ok." And I burst out laughing again. It was hilarious, it wasn't?...Next, I'm working at Dunkin' Donuts. Or, was dreaming I was, well, not dreaming like Martin did, but like I was sleeping, but, well, I wasn't sleeping, remember? That's why I'm in this predicament (ridiculous word, it's not?). My writing may lack certain things (but not vocabulary!) so I will tell you to imagine instead of you falling into the imagining state from the crotch-hold of good writing.

Imagine - "Welcome to Dunkin' Donuts"...pause in what you'd like to call disbelief but it's partially acceptance of what your life has become, thinking, they were right, I will be asking "that" question, and here it is, "Can I take your order?"..."Yes, can I get half of a dozen chocolate frosted donuts?"...nothing is said, or confirmed yet. I just stare at him.

(to the left, me taking orders at Dunkin' Donuts, and my expression to the order "a half dozen donuts")

...then, "Oh, I'm sorry, well, no I'm not, I didn't do anything wrong, why'd I be sorry...what did you order, I blacked out?"..."A half dozen chocolate frosted donuts please"...I do the stare again..."Is there another way you could order that sir?" He's dumbfounded - which makes no sense - because obviously this guy hasn't picked up the correct rock and found out that he's - dumb...He says hesitantly, "Half dozen"..."Yes, I heard, but there's another way to order that sir."...Time passes...Then time doesn't pass...Then it does again...Check back later to see what time does next...but then, I give in, "6 donuts sir, 6!" I think donut shoppes should give discounts to those that order 6 donuts instead of the "half dozen". It is simply not necessary to say that, but completely necessary for me to rant...I do not rave, well, anymore - because it's not the 90s anymore and a freckled man lost his glow stick - which is actually the name of my next novel, or album - I haven't decided whether I'm going to print the stories in a book or sing them. Again, picture it - on the cover of a book, atop the best-seller list...well, 2nd on the list...

1. The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown (I know it's old, but was probably atop the list, and I haven't read a book since it came out).

2. A Freckled Man Lost His Glow Stick by Garrett Kennedy

3. Bible by Chris

...And now, I'm back to that song I was listening to...which by the way is Ray Lamontagne's new song New York City is Killing Me, a forever inspiring-and-depressing song as Ray does so often...Next, I'm saying good-bye to my girlfriend because I still can't fall asleep - might as well start the day. I'm reminded of Denzel Washington in John Q (Denzel has never played Denzel better!), and said to Yvette, "It's not goodbye, it's I'll see you later"...we'll see...

...I'm walking down the street and imagine (you should still be too) this as a skit on SNL -- Dude walks out of the door as I pass so we're walking side by side. A new observationalist to this situation might think we're together, not together-together, but a friend or co-worker shooting the shit, walking to the bagel shoppe ("May I take your order?") or train stop. But, we aren't together. We are just two men trying to do our thang in this cold, cold world...actually it's pretty hot this morning. Let the space between my...be my witness...it's sweaty...It's also getting awkward. You've been in this situation before, walking down the street, you're behind someone and feel you're pace is going to catch up to this person, but anticipate you're not going to pass them easily at this pace...so, you debate - should you slow down (probably!...if we want to cross our legs and discuss metaphors...over wine, adult grape juice)...or should you speed up...but then you'll be next to this person for about 5 seconds, a long 5 too, and then it feels like you're in a race, and you start feeling bad that you're beating them, and they didn't even know they were racing (aren't we all, Momma!)...and then, you can't immediately go back to your original pace for at least a block or that person will catch up and you'll start rotating who's in the lead (and if this motherfucker thinks he's leading, he's got another thing coming!)...

...So, in the skit I'd say, "Ok, one of us has to go faster...or slower...because this is getting awkward...and it should probably be you...because this is my pace...I purchased it on EBay"...the moral of the story is that everybody should walk to their own pace...unless you converge with mine...stop fucking up my pace people...get your own...And now, it is time to lift the spirits with another song - Tracy Chapman's Fast Car.