Not A Suicide Note
Published September 22, 2022
These words were written a while ago.
I suddenly feel a great sense of sadness and loss. I don't know why. The weather is horrible. It's been hot lately. Too hot. Too hot for England. It's not too hot today, but not cold. It's the questionable heat after a thunderstorm, which happened earlier. I have a tower fan a few feet from my legs and they're being hit with a cool breeze. Too cool. Too cold. I don't like it. But when I turn the fan off I feel hot again. So I'll keep it on.
I am procrastinating. That's why I'm writing this. Better than Netflix, or jerking off. It's something productive. Some work. Some thing. Some thing to add to the list of things I've created in life.
I should be finishing an episode of BRAD NICHOLLS Podcast now. But the episode is horrible. Horrible because I want to finish it, there are some great things about it, but the current edit just isn't it. And, I can't seem to fucking make it work the way I want now.
All of this is annoying, but even more annoying because it has been several days of this.
Some times I get stuck, here I am stuck.
I watched one of the greatest films ever made last night. The Vanishing. It was so beautiful I almost cried. The entire film was almost perfect, there was only a handful of things that I will change, I say will because I am going to edit the thing, I am going to perfect it. It was such a natural film. Special.
I feel very sad. I ate some cheap ice cream before writing this, it was the only sweet food about. Now I have a pain in my neck, on the right. I don't think these things are connected. I'm in the mood to fuck or burn down a police station or marry a tranny in an airless desert, illuminated by giant spotlights. Oh well, I'm sad tonight, I'm sure it will go away.