I feel lost. I am lost. I don’t know what to do, who to talk to, or where to go. It’s the same routine each day: I wake up and commence to stare at my life. I can not decide what to do first, what is most important, or what even matters. I can’t sleep, I don’t eat right, I probably need a physical, and my general reckoning that I am over-extended in my little web universe announces itself time after time after time in my days. The flaneur may have met his come-uppance. I would like a job! I would like some professional direction and/or management, either doing someone else’s work or funneling my output into a grid.
A plan is what I need.
It might finally be time to pull out the stops and explore all those talents I have to discover new livelihoods, and new sources of subsistence. Nothing is wrong with things now on fundamentals, but I’m just kicking myself out of this world and into the arena of my other strengths.
…..
I am looking toward a woman who has dropped about a dozen cigarette butts into a plastic cup that is partially filled with a Vodka & Cranberry. She is drinking from that cup. She is madly drunk. Holy crap. Do cigarette butts add a certain flavor to the Vodka? I don’t plan to find out my self… she is spastically beautiful, her passions seething like a thin film of gas.
…..
tomorrow: 70s and loverly. i have a walk to Manhattan on the agenda, and the payphone hunting originally scheduled for today is now slotted for tomorrow.
…..
i am looking at the sky. nothing looks back.
…..
