I have an extremely difficult time motivating myself to write these days. What do you think it is? Atrophy of the brain? Boredom with life? Resignment? Leprosy? I cooked Tom Kha Gai this evening for Loyal and Zuzicka. It was most enjoyable -- especially the response received. At least I can pursuade myself that I am well versed in one non-trivial pursuit. Otherwise, the day went un-splendidly. I suppose I was mostly recovering from yesterday's attack of hypoglycemia. It was absolutely cruel. I was shaking ...
Suzie and Loyal chat about things I cannot discern in their bedroom and I am finally alone in my bedroom (their living room). The couch on which I sit shall serve as my sleeping place in a few weary hours. Somewhere in the flat, there is the soft padding of their cat and Slapp Happy grates away through the air reminding me painfully of Jana. Sometime during the next week my fate should, if all goes well, be sealed for some months. I shall empty by brain into the workplace which is also Loyal's own upon each...
nechtel bych hajzl. ne ne ne. i lost my darlinka last night and i feel like being somewhere between contrite and violent. listening to psi vojaci does not help. does this help? i think i shall have another cigarette. dying young will solve all of my problems. jsem 32. je mladej? i want to know the answer to this question. ...
And what? I am subdued and cloistered in California at the moment. I wonder about my future here and my ACTUAL future with Jana in Prague. My friends have retreated to the gym as I scratch and flail about their flat with no clear intention. Nothing comes to mind. Nothing creative. I am as dead in California as I was in bleak Fort Stockton. ...
Constant solitude leads to perpetual grief. Sick! Sick! Sick! Blades tear at me and I dream of shaving my body-hair, and its whiskering remains. I shall dye the embryo of my child a light blue and scream that the life I left was unformatted and unfair. Drowning in books is dying in escape while the prod of life unseats those unsober. I shall die a sad, unlonely man, a stricken man. ...
It was perhaps the most depressing Xmas of my life. Ufff... Now, at least being somewhere which allows me to access internet makes it 'un poco suave' in a manner, loosens my fingers and unfreezes my mind. The bleakness here is almost unbearable, and were I not less drunk, I would describe it in a marbleizing manner. The conversation I had with the only human in this wilderness that I remotely care about cerca two days prior revealed the same sentiments as I have. A prolonged visit here would result in suici...
I took a ride with Amy last night. Amy is my cousin. 10 years my superior. We paused for a delicious meal in Arlington (Indian). Our conversation centered around something I have rarely discussed with anyone in my lifetime - that is, our relationship with our parents. And especially the rodina of my father and her mother. I will begin with an instance she explained to me concerning a great uncle by the name of Lynn who used to live in Walla Walla Washington (or so I am told). It shocked me. Lynn was my fat...
Strange weekend. My kyla has been unexpectantly benign. I suppose I should be happy about that. So happy that it does not choke. Ufff. ...
Tomorrow I go to fabulous Fort Worth to visit my family. Moje rodina. It has been a long time. I wonder how much more alienated I shall feel during and afterwards. After the discussion with Chris today about his hopelessness, the whole idea of staying here for a lengthy time frightens me exceedingly. Everything here irritates me. Even the voices. That accent! Eructing words into ill-built phrases. Je odporny. ...
I have forgotten how absurd the culture of commercialism (the one that Michael found so unique and fascinating) is. ...
After not using the Dvorak keyboard (not out of choice, but out of necessity) for some time, I am entering these very enticing words by the means of the once abandoned keyboard layout. I am rather slow and clunky at it. I have lost my touch. ...
