One More Phone Call (update)

I can’t get going today. Something is changing. I just can’t put my finger on it yet. Phone calls, so many phone calls and emails and business typos. Controlling your own art is pressing and sleep depriving. I work hard, it’s all I know how to do. Cant find inspiration today, more phone calls. One more phone call and ah yes I’ll be there. I’ve said that I’ve quit drinking. I have. But not because I want to, but because I don’t have the time. I don’t have the time for anything with all of these phone calls.

I’ve told these local books stores in five cities that my books are ready. They are not ready. I need more time. I told em’ all that I don’t need more time. I’m almost thirty-one. I need to go back out there. I’ve been anchored for much too long. I’m going to walk and see something new, take some pictures, get cold and come back and write a spontaneous storm to cap off my mood. But first, I have one more phone call. They told me they want thirty books of each. They are not even done yet. They said people are excited, word of mouth is spreading. I don’t even have the money to print these things yet. I have to come up with a plan. One more phone call, and yeah, hopefully a plan. The adventures of just a person who wants to save the book continues. But first, one more phone call, one more um well sure, one more sounds good to me. Dig my panic and that anxiety for some reason gives me super human strength. I carry forward even though I’m just an invisible gravitational collection of particles walkin’ among this organic earth. I carry on, because this is what I do.

I’m smoking camel wide filters now and just looking at screens. After I smoke I rinse my mouth out with whatever was next to the toothpaste. My dentist said my teeth are perfect. My doctor said you’re in tip-top shape. I’ve never been sick but I’ve never felt well. This is on repeat. I’m looking at walls and curtains that don’t even want to dance in the wind today. I hear hums and old wood-creaks under carpet and it’s not poetic. I feel old. I want to yell. I don’t want to fight. I feel alive. Carry on. Life is love and so it goes…