08-31-14

I did it. I woke up and immediately started to write. Still in a dream state? Not sure. Need to relax my shoulders and get it done. I wrote my first critique so I'm kinda wondering if I got a response from the critique. Curious. Was watching Justin Timberlake on SNL singing My Love. I think that's the name of the song. Not sure again. I Boy, he would be a character in a story that I would write. How to describe him? So charming.  Symmetry features, just lovely. Also watched a little of Louis CK. It was pretty good. On FX. finally found some good programming outside of HBO. Cox sucks. I am meandering throughout the bullshit of t.v. Watched too much t.v. I think. Lazed around all day. It was a wonderful break. I cannot do that forever. Today my goal is write another critique and actually get busy with my notebook and some other exercises! It will be done. So I peaked and about what I just wrote and found that my JT is in need of a

fuller bodied description. I am not going to beat myself up. My cat, Jasper is laying on the table while I write. I love him. Cat boogers and all. Thee was a time when I would listen to Mozart music, (hey that is another uncovered goal of mine is to take a music appreciation class!) and his violins would make me cry. Wonder f I could find something on the old clunker of the internet.  I am 52 years old and I am finally realizing my dram after being stuck f or far too long in my old belief of not being smart enough. I was also think back on bringing up an issue where the points were 15 and should not have been under 20 to Tamra. She was so unjustly in my face about it because of this exception that I created for the order. But wasn't willing to look past her own nose and therefore spited her face. Within the confines of this blog, I fucking hate how she judges my actions. She's such a fucked up bitch-whore. There. I said it. No dream state there. Now....get back to being a loving, accepting and pure vessel of giving and receiving and being love. Done.

Thank goodness that creepy crawly thing on my chest was an ant. I thought it was a fucking flea! Ick. Fleas. Hatem'! Clean this desk of the papers.  Clean, clean clean. The simpler life. I love it.

What will my first piece as a 52 year old writer be about? Need to get to sleep and have a rested sleep. Need to ask the question rite before I sleep.What was it the put me beyond the edge of figuring I was living an old belief? Just remembered part of a dream. Todd and Moses were switching homes b/c the had just added onto their homes. Too weird. That's all I remember.

I am no longer encumbered with wasting huge chunks of time living someone else's idea (wait, my own) of how fucked up I am by not being smarter.