Initiation Tool - create "Morning Pages", writing 3 pages longhand every morning (90 days straight)Mon. Sept. 13, 2010 - Morning Pages - Day #34 - Train ride, on the R, to job...stealing time...
What to do with this life...I guess, God gave me...my mom might beg to differ on that...actually she did...for a year of her life...she was on the streets, with her cup, begging, just to differ...weird, huh?...but, that's my momma, and I'm sticking to it, or her...because I know, not much, but know, she'll always stick to me, metaphorically again, right?......Why capitalize God and not mom???...Ponder that at a later date...but for now...Let's run with the idea that god gave me this life...and then he took it away...away for 4 plus years by giving me a sleeping disorder...the whys could be built up to provide all the inner city kids with Y's to play in -- explain to me again why Lebron James was in a Greenwich, CT boys club...whatever for now, yeah, until tomorrow...
...So much of life is what we choose to do with it...but then other parts are out of our hands...maybe writing is physically keeping it within my hands...and so, of course, I've asked why I have a sleeping problem...the questions aren't directed to god, or anyone in particular, and they are also asked without the, "Why me?"...I've never actually asked that -- that would be a slap in the face to all of what I should be grateful for in my life - that maybe god's given me, I know my mother's given me, and like Chris Rock said, "Nobody thanks the dads"...but I'll counter that by letting my dad have "the big piece of chicken" at dinner...paraphrasing Mr. Rock there...it's ok...we are both New Yorkers now, we aren't?...but, I also can thank myself for much of the great I have in life...and for those not thanked, well, you either didn't deserve it, or I'm waiting to give you thanks during my next "Idea Awards" speech, and I'll be sure to thank the fans too -- because like most, they are the reason we do this, whatever this really is?...
...I write and reluctantly ask the question, "Why do I have a sleeping problem?"...If this writing is going to mean anything then I have to be more honest...that letter I wrote "you" that night is the realest thing I've ever written, I channeled most definitely, and I have to do that more often...telling myself this, not you...which gets confusing because I said in a previous "Morning Pages" that pretty much every time I write "you" I'm really talking to myself...and that would mean, in this case, that I just really wrote: telling myself this, not me, or, not I?...and that would mean I wrote that letter to myself...maybe I did...This more than likely doesn't make much sense to "you", but at least it does to me...maybe it means that I'm telling myself to do something, like writing, but don't believe I'll actually follow through...In the end, being more truthful, in my writing, and in life in general could be challenging to me to do so, to follow through, it's not?...Well, we'll see, we'll see...Or, I guess it doesn't matter if you see, you've got your own plans and problems racing through your mind...I should say, I'll see, I'll see...and so...I asked myself first in this writing - What to do with this life?...Well, I'd like to write, and realized through writing today's pages, I have to be more honest in this writing, all of it, in order to get anything...
...I had to pause the above writing to get off my stop, hence the incomplete thought, another one!...My stop, Court Street in Brooklyn Heights...I'm on my way to work...walking slower, trying to listen to my own advice, and I'm early so now walking to find another place to sit and write...On my way to finding, I pass another man my age...I'm listening to Dylan in my headphones, again, so I don't have to hear everyone else's bullshit tone...That man my age passed me, wearing Dylan on his t-shirt, it said "vintage" in the corner of the pictured Bob...and I think this is more evidence that music is evidence of our existence, and proof we will live on...I'm trying to get to that in my writing...that is a step toward being more honest, I think - it's what I want out of my writing...I'm inclined to say whatever for now, until tomorrow, a phrase I'm getting attached to...it's not a whatever attitude like teenage negligence, apathy, but more so, it's accepting what's written, or what I've already lived, and moving on...I have to keeping being honest, and get more honest, to completely move on - And bringing it all back home - to insomnia...honesty can lead to me completely getting over this sleeping disorder...I think...
...I caught the person next to me on the bench trying to sneak a peek of what's written, I close the Moleskine, a step backwards, possibly, but I write on, after realizing this...maybe I should be more like my Mom...during her begging days, begging to differ...I should beg myself to differ with they way I used to be, so passive, and scared to do what I wanted to do...maybe that's what this writing is...me begging myself to do what I want to with my life - What to do with this life?...If any part of me thinks god, or anyone else, took years away from my life because of insomnia, then writing can be taking it, my life, back...another step forward could be stating what I think is possible as fact...I write that sentence with a "could be" which is the same as "maybe"...and that's fact...I'll be more honest tomorrow...I'll see, I'll see...but end with this dismount -- I know everyone my age asks these questions, and if there is an ounce of good in them, then they are doing whatever they know how to answer them.
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