Initiation Tool - create "Morning Pages", writing 3 pages longhand every morning (90 days straight)Wed. September 8, 2010 - "Morning Pages" - Day #29 - Girlfriend's, feeding cat, trying to take nap...fail...so write...
...Add more pillows for each of my body parts, each muscle, they are rattling, jumping in opposite directions, pulling me nowhere, actually add a straight-jacket...to each muscle...give them sedatives, so they all can live, within my body, someday peacefully...and maybe one day my mind and body can harmonize...sleep writing...
...And, so my girlfriend's at her first day of school, no, she's not a first grader going to her first day of school, she actually teaches first grade, our song separating for more hours this coming fall..but, it'll come back on as we come back together later in the day, nighttime...maybe making us appreciate one another more...learning that maybe the saying's true - "There's always a great woman behind every good man"...but, then again, tell that to the homosexual men that just tied the knot in Massachusetts, "not that there's anything wrong with it" (Seinfeld), forever subscribing to that philosophy, of course...I think that's how the saying goes, I don't memorize them, usually let them go in one ear, out the other, like parental advice too often...I also read once that Louis Armstrong said there is always a white man behind every black man's success (again, check quote at later date)...I'm not exactly sure what he meant by that, and I ain't got the time to dissect, Louis...Louis, I ain't got the time...I think what he meant is that eventually a soul must find a white man to be behind a black man's curtain of glory...Yeah, I agree, I think Louis and I speak a similar language...like Omar Epps, remember?...Now, I've never listened to Louis Armstrong's music, but I give a belated congratulations to him for landing on the moon...what white guy helped him garner that feat?...Well, Louis, I'll see you around the block sometime, you and Jenny (Lopez, from the block)...snoring awake...
Jotted in Margin: Van Morrison's "Joe Harper Saturday Morning" playing...
...I'm writing like I'm a person walking down the street talking to oneself, like a wino, or does it have to be so vulgar?...maybe he's just an insomniac, dreaming, not sleeping, so he's writing, dreaming, sleep-writing, while walking, and others think he's talking to himself...maybe he doesn't need a drink, maybe just a nap...some Zs if you could, please?...
...I don't have time to ask if I'm ok, he says to himself, walking down the street, but would you?...This morning, at 5:30ish AM, I was walking back to my apartment, talking to myself, asking this, that, and a million other things, looking at the still darkness, making it feel like it was another late-night, just arriving home, sobering up, seeing the night turning into day, again...sleep-writing...
...I think about stopping this writing, a pause to go to that expensive gym...which people think I use to get back into physical shape...it's just as much for mental shape though, each sweat, a drop of insanity falling to the floor, and hopefully out of my body, forever...also, hopefully, that guy working out with the fanny-pack and coffee?, hopefully he trips on my sweat-drops, whatever...next thought...next one...onto the next before I can write...the next one...etc. ...
...I think of making lunch first before I go to the gym, it could be sitting there ready when I get back...but, I decide, or whoever's conducting this ship today decided, I'm too tired to make it -- perceived laziness, possibly...I can't make up my mind...think now, that maybe it's God's plan to not have me sleep well, lately, to put me back in that mind state when this sleeping problem was at its worst - so now, I can get it all down...my thought-dreams...but, I'm not looking for a damn message from God, more so, a friend...tell me what you truly think...and does it always have to be over beers...to make us open up...who's conducting today?...
...I take like 5 showers a day, to wake up, so when I do leave the apartment, girlfriend jokes that I never do, I say it's because I'll get sunburned, she says, it's winter, I counter that jab, saying, yeah, but it's windy outside, wind burn, etc. ...take 5 showers per day so when I do go out, I can at least pretend I'm a part of regular society...I try to walk out, go to the gym, but my Moleskine keeps calling me...a whisper in the head, like an alcoholic calling liquid his friend?...
...Lou Reed's singing The Velvet Underground's Beginning to See the Light, and asking, "How does it feel to be loved"?...First, and again, this isn't my corny attempt to insert a song about seeing a light...or, in sequence with my writing, seeing those signs...no, not that attempt...I was really playing this song...this jumping around, or what appears to have been, in my mind at least, I haven't reread this yet...but think I'm jumping around in this writing...the jumping around is just a reflection of what's going on in my mind, can't shut it off, or organize it, sleep deprivation at its best...and worst...making me repeat Lou Reed, "How does it feel to be loved"?...Well, damn good...damn fucking good, and I think I'll call her to make sure she'll be at the Pete Molinari concert tonight...more music, continuing our song...similar to other writers inserting prayers, poems at the beginning of chapters, I like inserting lyrics, they are like prayers...this whole writing thing's a prayer...somebody once told me I don't have a prayer...I think I do now...and all these prayers, or lyrics we read, write, make life just a little bit easier...and so does that love, Lou...and Louis...
...I've organized today's thought-dreams the best way I know how, through writing -- through it...and now it's time to make that call..and leave you with this, a few lines from my song Footprintin'...also known as And Let the Blues...check out the rest here...
...And let the blues become a soundtrack that another lonesome boy steps to / And let my ideas become a path that we will one day walk through / And on the other side see it footprints...
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