"Undermining my electoral viability since 2001."

Gear Grinding

0078h by M83

That's music; click it and see. I feel on the cusp, right about at 2:34 in that track. Felt like this before, though, and I know it doesn't mean anything necessarily.

God damn things seem complex sometimes. Too many irons in the fire maybe. To many moving parts. The gears are grinding. I've been back here in beloved BKLYN for about two months now and already I've got itchy feet, curse of the rambler, thinking about how Mark's got the internets now out in Westhaven, thinking about how to take up hermitage in the Siesta, rack up billable hours, write at a book, maybe get fat or something.

Ginding my gears, spinning my wheels. Time for a tune up? Too much sleep over the holiday; got the sluggishness. Wake it and shake it! Man, maybe time for the gym, for structure. Fuck getting fat, how about getting ripped again? Really hit it and throw some weight around. Or maybe a yoga class is the thing. I seen Ginger Legon (ol' theater comrade) is teaching in the neighborhood. What am I doing with my life? I need to get health and dental insurance and checkups. I need to pay off the IRS, pay off MBNA. I need to get rid of that old mattress and replace it with a bookshelf.

I really need to do some art. I need that sweaty unconcsious moment. I need I need I need. I need to not be bored. I need a distraction, a downer, an upper, a challenge, a doorway to a new dimension. Videogames, drugs, women; anything to throw me into the heat of battle so I don't have to feel the cold out here on the edges. Everyone's sweating the transition. Where's that fucking easy button?

UPDATE: Note to self -- remember to eat food. It helps your mind work right.