A disaster of a writing session

     "Christfuck", David thought to himself.  "What a night, and yet, not much happened that was significant."

     Shit, it is already 12:25. 
     Let's see, I woke up at 10 am, and it took me an hour and a half to get out of my studio to the cafe.
     My clarity was confused when I came into the cafe and this guy I know was doing the talking loud thing in the cafe, so I couldn't hear myself think.
     Then Daniel was here, and I was having a hard time focusing.
     Basically, I am confused.
    
     Anyway, I have to bicycle a 24" x 36" canvas across town on my bicycle today for Cafe Prague.  It will be work, but I'll be able to do it.

     What the hell is going on with me right now?  I don't know, I am just trying to piece together the events of last night while at the same time life is happening right now, and there are new events constantly occurring.

     Let's see, I was trying to piece together last night, and two people had conversations with me, and now the old day is starting to fade away, because the new day has announced itself.

     No one on this Earth can help me get a job.  Damn.  I was hoping it would be otherwise.

     Anyway, I am all confused right now, and I don't know what I am doing, and I don't know what I am supposed to be writing about.

     I can't get the sequence of events in order in my head.  There are a lot of people here, and I feel distracted. 
     Yet, the cafe is filled with life, and that is why I come here.

     So, what is it all about?  I don't know, it is one of those days.

     Maybe it will help if I mention the toy aircraft carrier I found on the way home.  It is a big toy.  We put it in my friend's space.  We will use that thing for videos.

     Anyway, who am I?  Who am I today?

     I watched episode 69 of The Howard Stern channel 9 show this morning.  I still have to watch episodes 56 -68, then I will have seen them all.
     Sometimes that show makes me feel uncomfortable watching it because it is so painful but funny at the same time.
     It is odd to see the cast so young.
     Stuttering John was okay at that point, and you can see why he had an appeal, but then he ended up being detrimental to the show.

     Daniel is a good person.  If you ever read this, then.... "Hello". 
     We talked about 'Google Plus'.

     Anyway, my writing is turning out to be something different today then I intended.
     It was my intention to just recount last night's events like I normally do, but I am really fucking up right now.
     I don't know what my focus and direction is, and I suppose it doesn't matter.

     There is a lot of white space on the walls, as the cafe is between art shows.  It is nice to have nothing on the walls.  I was getting real burned out on the last photography exhibit.

     The guy with the cute little Wookiee dog is here.

     I smell egg and cheese bagel.

     The music is going, and it is a brand new day, and now what?

     I am suffering from 'Basic Confusion' right now.

     I woke up, and one of the musicians was fiddling around with his monotonous music, and then he was practicing his drums, so I was trying to be cohesive with all of that distraction.

     I got a girl laughing in the background and people talking.

     I am confused.

     The black guy kept talking to the kid, and the mother was going along with it, but the guy would not shut up, and I was trying to think, and he was blocking my way to get coffee, and his dialogue was filling the whole cafe.

     I don't want to go back to work at the ballpark.  It sucks, so I need to find something else.  I don't know what I am going to do.  I need some cash.

     I didn't make any money at the bar last night, but I earned several beers.

     Cool jazz in the background.

     I just want to go home and go to Middle Earth.

     Anyway, to write about actual real, living people?  You see, I get confused keeping everything straight.  I've tried creating fictional characters, but it is usually just easier to write about the actual real person.

     Daniel is really into tech stuff.  He is on a different channel than I am.  We get along, though.  I think Daniel has a lot to offer as a person.

     So, I had just found the toy aircraft carrier, and Marco was standing in the gate, smoking.  I showed him what I had found.  He was laughing.  Plus, I was inebriated. 

     Fuck, I was pissed and annoyed at another friend by what he said when I said I wanted to quit my ballpark job.
     Basically, he was no help.

     I started to think of a proposal to Dark Horse Comics, but I don't know how the industry is these days, and I know I would be doing all the work drawing the comic book out if I work with people, so I might as well do it all myself.
     All this shit takes time.

     Then, I was working on my painting last night at the bar.  Progress is slow on this one.  It is a commission piece.

     My writing seems all shot to hell today.  I can't seem to do it as good, and it is all turning out to be a mess.  I am all over the place.
     So many things happened that I can't piece it all together, or make sense of it.

     It is the 'Overwhelm' card.

     Conducting a conversation and trying to write just doesn't work.  I was trying to focus and put it all together before it all disappeared.
     Fuck.
     This whole entry has no planning because I couldn't sort it out in my head.  I got distracted while I was in the middle of that process.  I couldn't focus on what was being said to me, and I couldn't focus on what I was writing, so it was an epic fail on my part on two fronts.

     I am just fucking confused today, and that is all there is to it. 

* * *

     Why in fuck did I want to listen to that black guy talking to that kid and why in hell did that conversation have to fill the whole cafe, and why was he wearing a big backpack so I couldn't even walk around him to get coffee?
     It was so unpleasant for me.
     The man just wanted to talk to that kid, and the mom seemed okay with it.  She was glad when the talk was over, I think.
     He was going in for Round 2, but she had to go.
     She was a nice looking mom, so the man was enjoying talking to the kid, but I think he liked the mom.
     I don't like to see people take advantage of people's good will.

     Fuck.  Now there is a three-person dialogue going on to the left of me, talking shit.  Just want I want to hear.  Yet another distraction on my pummeled head.

     A job?  Doing what?

•      All I want to do is be an artist.
•      Let's see if this works, to help sort out my head, to put my thoughts in point form.
•      I talked to three people last night who are into advertising.  I asked the guy point blank why he was into advertising, and he said, "I am good at it".  This is after the obvious motive of making money.  I seemed to know more about advertising than he did, and he was going to school for it.  He was Canadian, but I wasn't convinced that he really knew what he was talking about.  He was a little smug about his knowledge, and pretty sure about his talent and abilities.  He was young.  I think he will find out the hard way, and end up in some different field.
•      What the fuck are these people talking about?  The woman keeps saying the word 'Outreach'.  Fuck.  Who cares?  A lot of people try to get things going on the web, but I don't know what for.  Fuck.  It is all a bunch of bullshit, especially when I hear a lot of people talking about shit and not doing the shit.  Ten people talking for two hours to decide if a papercilp should attach two pieces of paper.  It makes me sick with these people, and all their non-profit fineggling, where nothing is actually produced except finding new ways to get rich people to give them money.
•      Fuck, I wish I didn't have to listen to these people right now.
•      Daniel is Sulu, an expert at navigating the ship, and swamped in technical knowledge and approaches.  He is a real nice guy, and is interested in mastering photography with this high-tech camera he's got, but it is not easy.  He is getting better, and has the kind of mind that will figure it out.
•      Marco is a swell guy, and is really funny.
•      All I know is I have to figure out shit all on my own to get money to come my way.  It is war.  I have to be a ruthless bastard business man just to get it all going, and I really don't want to be that kind of a dickhead, but I have to if I want to survive.
•      I always have thoughts of my oldest brother John.  All it has turned out to be is that he has ADD.  All that trouble for nothing, but he always seemed to enjoy being too much work for everyone around him.
•      Fuck it, I'll talk about anybody I want to fucking talk about.  It all started with my family, they don't like me to talk about them.  Fuck them, and what they think.  My head is caved in after all that Mormonism.
•      Fuck, I was talking with a couple last night.  This guy knew of a whore house that Brigham Young started in Salt Lake City called 'The Stockade' that featured a row of women in booths, and the guy could walk along and see what woman he wanted to sleep with.  He said this was around 1850.  I will have to see if I can find information on this.  The guy was an ex-mormon, but then bailed on the whole thing, but has since become interested in the historical aspects of Mormonism.
•      The woman is talking to two men.  She just fucking looked at my monitor, fucking bitch.  What the fuck do I have to do with fucking anything?  People are so fucking intrusive.  I am just here to mind my own fucking business.
•      My writing is a bunch of shit right now.  One distraction after another today.  I can't hear myself think.  
•      I hope that nosy woman read the title of this blog and will fucking look it up.  My problem is that I was trying to think, and there was no one else around, and they had to sit next to me and gab for an hour when my mind is already frail as it is trying to piece together my life.
•      I fucking had the music in my right ear and conversation from people coming in on my left, and it was just fucking too much, fuck.
•      This has turned out to be a disaster of a writing session.
•      Fuck, now I am all pissed off, but I finally have some psychological space to myself.  Fuck.  My mind is filled with profanities, and I am disturbed with events since last night.
•      I slept well enough, and woke up, and it took me an hour and a half to get it together to make it to the cafe.  Then it took me a while to set up my laptop, and to try and think with all of the distractions was fucking with my head.
•      The black guy after he talked to the kid came over and patted me on the shoulder, and started to talk to me.  I've talked to him before, he is a nice guy, and has lived a full life.  I didn't want to hear about his marital status, his divorce, his kids, his latest renovation project..it was too much.  He is 55 and is a very alive person, but while he was talking, I fucking wanted to turn on the clock and get paid for my time.
•      Daniel is a nice guy but I got flooded with words that I couldn't focus on.  Hey, I am just waking up.
•      I watched a full episode of Howard from his channel 9 show instead of getting onto Clone Wars like I normally do.  I wanted to start the day off in a different manner.
•      I jacked off to a woman with a heart shaped ass before falling asleep.  I was drunk, but she was really pretty.
•      Howard had no restraining bolt in the early days.  He would say anything that came to mind.  He is more of a pro now.  The young Howard and the old Howard are two different things.
•      F stuttering John.
•      It's great to hear Jackie's laugh in the background on the old shows.  That was the best thing about Jackie is that damned whooping laugh of his.  It is better than any joke he says.
•      Fred's sound effects are awesome.
•      So yeah, I am all fucked up today.
•      No point in writing a blog.  I have no traffic, but I like to do it.  I have to do something with all of these thoughts in my head.
•      Sure, enough, we were looking at Google Plus, and there was my fucking oldest brother John with two accounts.  He just tries to get into every aspect of my life, and it is really hard to give a fuck since we didn't even get along while living in the same house.  The guy is a pain in the ass to me, and doesn't get it, and he doesn't accept the fact that I don't want to be Mormon, and he is all bloated and fat, and he is trying to show me stuff he is into, but a lot of his interests over the years has been very yuppie oriented because he wanted to make money.  That didn't work too well.  In exchange, he sold his soul, whereas I have kept my person intact.
•      Yeah, I am a fuck up, but I could give a fuck.  I am incompetent, and can't handle a job that has too much responsibility.
•      Fuck, I did not want to hear that woman talk with the guy with the white laptop.  I was fucking bored to fucking tears listening to them.  It was all so unimportant and meaningless, though, to them, it may have been a real experience.
•      There is only one goddamn path for any person.  Right down the middle, right into the soul of your gut.
•      The cafe was packed today when I got here.
•      Fuck, I've been here for two hours writing this shit, and this session is a disaster.
•      I was thinking of not writing at all at the cafe today, and just giving it up, and doing some manual drawing and writing.  I can do that later at Cafe Prague today.
•      Marco hasn't shown up today.  I guess he is out playing guitar.  Damn.  I need to talk to him, about nothing, so he can help me sort out my head.
•      It ended up being five guys at the bar at closing time.  Mike, Peter, Roger, David G., and I.  Maybe somebody else was there, I'm not sure.  It was a funny moment, but I wish Roger was funny.  I wish he would just be himself then to do all the canned jokes, which is funny on some level but, it is hard to know who the real Roger is.  Yet, he has a lot of talent, but...maybe it is just the booze, and I should give up even trying to talk to him.
•      It just turns out that I have to fucking prove to people, once again, that I can do something.  It fucking pisses me off that I have to keep doing this, as if it is never good enough for anybody.  These people aren't really helping me, therefore, I have to fucking declare war on the world, and it fucking sucks that I have to do that, but it doesn't seem like sometimes that people are on my side.  Now I am stuck doing all this legwork all on my own, and it is really difficult to do.  Fuck, I just need a fucking break or something.  God, what do I have to do now?  Fuck.
•      Porn and technology.  People think I am crazy when I talk about this, but I've fucking read essays on this.  I would post them if I could find those exact same essays on the web.  Fuck.
•      I got to get out of here.  This whole blog entry today just isn't working.  Fuck.  I am a mess.
•      I ought to just go home and turn on Clone Wars and forget about my problems for a while, and get something to eat.  I am starved.