Whole body feels off this day. Disrupted. Disruptive. Felt nauseous, then I did not. I can’t really blame this on yesterday, I don’t think, whatever my ambitions might have been. I wanted to know what it is like to drink all day. But I just couldn’t bring myself to actually swill vodka before noon. I was up by 8:30 yesterday, today at 5am. I don’t know what I am doing anymore, or what matters. Wrote most of a story about LinkNYC and how I have come to loath it. Drinking all day was not something I particularly desired. I guess it’s more of a bucket list thing. I only remember drinking by noon two other times. Once I went to a bar to see a football game and, out of habit, ordered a beer. Another time was in college, though I don’t recall the exact circumstances except that it was in my dorm room. Now I feel like murder.

Unmoored. That’s my word of the year, or years. I saw that word used to describe the Las Vegas shooter. And the Port Authority bomber was described, suspiciously, as a “late sleeper”. I am that, too, but don’t call me a terrorist on account of it.

I had a bizarre moment a few weeks ago, after the Aeropress coffee maker thing exploded. That’s happened once or twice before, but not as dramatic as this time. It happens if the bottom piece is not screwed on the right way, or if it’s not on tightly enough. I pressed down on the plunger thing and the bottom popped off. Coffee stains splattered all over the fucking place. I looked at it splattered on the wall and imagined I had just blown myself up, and this was my passage to whatever Nirvana people who do that think they will enter into. It was, truly, a very strange moment to contemplate blowing up and still being in the room after it happened. Not a nice feeling, mind you.

I think I woke up around 10:00 or 10:30 last night. I think I forgot to eat again, as I am wont to do. I read a little of Antonin Artaud earlier, at times asking outright “What the hell does that mean?” He crossed my radar when I randomly looked at JPGs of a book I scanned a long time ago, about the radio and radiophony. Artaud wrote a lot about audio and sound and created some musique concrete type radio pieces, though I don’t think I’ve ever heard any of it.

I don’t want to sit but I don’t want to stand. I don’t want clothes on but I don’t want to be naked. I want to sleep but I don’t want to lie down. I feel nauseous but in such a way that I want or even could vomit. There’s a word that sounds like what it means: VOMIT. I was the barf king in grade school, where someone (I don’t remember who) told me that if you do not vomit by a certain age then you never will, or else you will die trying. This was because your muscles would become locked in the one direction and unable to go in reverse, as happens when you barf. I never looked that up and I wonder now if it’s true.

The apocalyptically loud door buzzer just went off, I guess that’s UPS with whatever crap I summoned from Amazon the other day. I try to forget those orders, for to create an element of surprise when they arrive.