If you’re going out to write on a park bench observing the savagery in Michigan, in November, in 60 degree weather, you would think it might be an alright decision for a couple hours. Nope. There’s bouts to be some tornadoes, and I’m like where’s the cheap brew and a good place to read man? Nothing. Well I guess you don’t know how to talk then. Often people are lunatics without the courage to be nice. Thank you for making existence worth it. And I was reading and writing at some random hot dog stand in grand rapids watching the idiots in t shirts send the future of our culture into the stratosphere of idiocracy. A Tornado? I’m going to bed soon…
Never forget that we forgot how to make concrete for almost 1300 centuries before the dawn of the first industrial revolution.
“While concrete construction continued to be used in various forms throughout the Eastern and Middle Eastern World, it was largely lost to Europe after the fall of the Roman Empire. During the Dark Ages and the Middle Ages, European peasants reverted to making primitive mud mixes that produced walls and floors which were not nearly as strong as their Roman predecessors. The modern age of concrete dawned at the beginning of the industrial revolution with a series of innovations. First, in 1756 a British engineer named John Smeaton added pebbles and powdered brick to the concrete mix as coarse aggregate, in order to make the first hydraulic cement.”
“Hey you know of a place on a Saturday night where I can sit and think?”
“This place is cool, that’s where I’m at.”
The hipster bar. I aint looking to play games with kids. I wanted to sit in a dark place and read. And so…
I chose the country bar.
I need two hours to chill the fuck out.
Some country bar, that’s all I know. Grand rapids is a shit hole, but the truth is everywhere is a shit hole at this time of hour.
The sound of the song on the jukebox is made for killing yourself and that’s what I’m going to do, I’m going to smoke a smoke and stand in the rain.
Sometimes you have to write in the bad environments so you can force yourself to think…no wifi
Only matting rituals and me, only my god damn novel and my dilated eyes waiting for the kill…
People apologizing for nonsense and hot dog man waiting in the rain, me, wearing flannel is camo these days
Telling girls you need to get away for a few hours is always awkward. The vacuuming is enough. The same cycle. Being happy was too boring. It always is…
People walk in such straight lines. They can go to hell for all I care. Sorry. I’m pissed. I told people a storm is coming. They said go write your dumb books Andrew.
These girls, ask me what I’m working on, a book, about, you, me, yes, buy me a drink, who, you darling, sure, sit there, what you want to talk about? no time darling, got a book to go ahead and wrench off my brain to
A haircut doesn’t make a man, neither does enough money to collect girls like daughters
Life is the existence of it all, and so who am I? She asked. I don’t give a fuck.
The power is going to die and I have maybe two bucks. Lets see how long I can stay out of the rain. Im guessing I’ll be hearing plenty of bullshit. I have an hour and a half. Like I’ve said before, sometimes an hour and a half is enough…
I’m on the streets in america. You bat shit insane country….
I love you…
You force the inspiration out of me…
I’m orange juice.
Enjoy the pulp.
It’s 5.23 a.m on November 18th 2013. My mind is sleeping and the dreams were insane. I woke up around six and the power was off. There were tornadoes around Michigan. The echo of the no electricity makes it feel like the end of the world happened. The dog wont even go outside. It’s her birthday. I blame it on the dog. there’s not much power left on the laptop and in times like these i wish i had my typewriter, but when you’re on the road you use the laptop, it’s the equivalent of a silencer and I’m sure I’m the only one’s that’s awake right now. I just couldn’t sleep anymore, i needed to get up…my back hurt.
Rain or shine or power or no power there’s a job to do. it feels like the sun hasn’t been out in days, and really it hasn’t, the night before i told people it was going to get bad but nobody listened to me and when they turned on the television there was mobile homes and weather balls all over the place, twenty thousand people without power and that’s alright with me. i took the day off and instead of watching football like some monkeys do i slept and slept until i couldn’t sleep anymore.
waking up i ate some green beans for breakfast and heated the water and it’s like camping and easy for me. the dreams, what i can remember is that i was sleeping on the couch, that’s where i woke up but it was the house across the street, not my friends, and i woke up and i said how the hell did i get here, this isn’t my place…
So i suffer from sleep paralysis sometimes and i wanted to scream help but i didn’t because it wasn’t my house. finally i got up and looked around and felt weird because i knew it wasn’t where i was supposed to be. I walked to the window and saw my couch, and oh no, i tried to open the window and i opened the glass window and the screen and then great, there was another window, a storm window and i couldn’t open that. I don’t think anybody was home but i started to get worried and i couldn’t find my shoes but there wasn’t any time because who knows what would have happened if they found me sleeping in here. It wasnt the right house. So what I did in my dream is i opened the door to the house and then she was rubbing my back telling me the power won’t be back on for three days.
That was the dream and now I’m here, awake, another day, back going somewhere new, back at the keys, back to the words, thank you for reading.
P.S, Use A Mac that’s not yours and go back to your P.C, and this is what your novel could look like. Whatever. I dont care. Luck is for idiots.
Adventures In American Writing 