Month: May 2018

Eh, Sure?

Good morning,

It’s 6:03 AM on the East Coast. The birds are chirping and flitting around, no doubt cussing each other out for being so goddamn loud first thing in the morning. “I haven’t slept in six weeks because of your chirping, Reginald!” Because robins should have the name “Reginald”. Somewhere, kids are groaning about their finals and the approaching “June” months, while their parents are sitting somewhere day drinking — no MORNING drinking because they don’t know what the fuck to do with these little shits. The kids are probably dreaming of gaming and eating candy all day. Those worlds will never collide…

Meanwhile, writers, artists, musicians… All staring out the window, trying to grab inspiration from somewhere when their old, babydoll-headed Sid monster ideas from the back of their brain closet rear’s it’s one-eyed head and starts speaking in a demonic language all its own and that’s when they hear it, like a drunken frat boy who’s had too much tequila… “You know what would be a great idea?” And then we listen… We listen to those great ideas… We know they’re not great but maybe, we could make them great….. Maybe we have that ability. So we nod, and pony up — “Eh, sure?” and the creepy babydoll idea grins a toothless grin and sinks its missing eyed cranium back into its hole, cackling like a toddler on pop rocks.

Wonder what deal we’ve signed today…

It’s 6:17… fuck, I gotta work… Babydoll ideas don’t pay for themselves… well not yet…

Captain’s log… Some random day in May

It’s been well over a months since I’ve documented my many adventures through the wood and rain. My feet are twisted in some weird amalgam of seasonal change, joints swelling and decompressing, fingers twitching at every stray drop of hydroassailants falling from the sky. The locals have become quippy, not their usual iced over selves. I’m not sure if the sheer magnitude of the slight temperature changes throughout the day are taking their toll on their mental state, but it appears that they are not as well-prepared for this type of living as originally thought…

…ill-assimilation may cause them severe and dire effects…

As the days roll forward, I find myself stuck in a mental trench of “perhaps this, perhaps that”, consoling myself with the drink of the Highland farmers. Diavol attempts to console me, but even he’s lost somewhere deep in the land of drafts and broken trees, finding his place among other human beings… But together we have been trudging through the thicket, his sidekick on his shoulders, mine tucked neatly behind my ear. We’ve made some progress, but have been set back on so many occasions, I would fear the worst may occur… If we weren’t such stubborn asses, hell-bent on making our way to Peklenc’s place of business…

…We will see what twisted fates await us at his gates…

(And now I’m Dr. Fucking Seuss … What the fuck…)

End Captain’s log***