Doing absolutely nothing is productive.
I woke up today at 9:30. I am unemployed. There is not need to get ready in 30 minutes and drive a car. I am no longer a slave to work. I could of masturbated, but I wanted the energy.
I thought my drum machine was coming in today. I check the shipping code, nope. It's expected tommorrow. Already, today is another day wasted.
I went downstairs and laid on the couch. I went with my mom to go see half- dead grandma at the retirment home. I went home after I saw grandma's butt. No. I am killed sexually. Is there any innocence in beauty in a corspe butt? No.
I went upstairs I listen to some nationalist radio. Two programs in a row. One on Right On, the other about Jews. I took a nap. I went back down stairs. I walked both the dogs with mom. Mom wanted chinese food. She drove off while it rained. Dad got a special package. Two nosepickers for me and him. Good. Mom came back. No eggrolls with the meals. She went off yet again to go see dead grandma. I sat alone on the dead in the dark. I got up and walked puppy around the block. I had some thoughts to myself. Got back, now on the typewriter.
Today was about doing absouletly nothing.
I am thinking about swimming. The pool is tantalizing. Yet, I could be on the computer, watching Milo's new speech, or looking up dumb new products. I already stop going on Fantasy Flight Games. I am done with board game culture. It is pathetic. I will still go to Netrunner club time to time for the heck of it. Nothing much to do.
I could of had a summer class this summer. Even an internship. Nope. Still looking for a internship. I sent another resume in today for some dating service. Oh well. I wish it was about porn. That would be intresting.
All this. And still, I feel like I have accomplished nothing. I am drifting while every day, my skin eats away. I am asleep in this life.
When will I ever feel alive?
Is writing a jail sentence? Since nothing is accomplished and only time and space is recorded.
I felt alived at the beach two days ago on Sunday. The weatherman said thunder and rain. No way. It was the opposite. Sunny and sexy.
I made out with Alice on the beach a couple of times. I just wanted to take off her clothes and have sex on the beach. If only...
Yeah, the beach is amazing. I wish I spent the whole time this week on Cape May. I would feel accomplished that I would be relaxing every day. With a purpose. No. It's impossible to relax in King of Prussia. Old people mainline. Boring. Nothing to do. Too much trees. No beach or excitment. No young people...
Where are the young people? Whored away by their families? Young people are like jews. All in positions of power. Older society cries over young bodies. Feed them to Morloch.
I am glad I found Alice. Next up, I want to find that job and the income with it. Enough to support myself and her. ...And 3 kids.
Doing nothing is form of productivity. The monks... the monks of something, would think of nothing. They would eat oranges everyday. Nothing at all. These monks wanted to be one with death. Maybe I am becoming a monk and don't even know it. Both leroy and puppy are better monks than I. I can't tell if both of them are sad or meditatin. Humans can't possibly do something every day.
I see sceince-fiction books I bought on my table. I could pick up one and read it.
What's even the benefit? The text is outdated. Is it relevant? Or do I look at it like art?
I see books of my shelf I haven't read before. It upset me a bit. All I have to do, is pick a book out, and commit 40 mins reading half the first chapther.
Is it any good? Most people just throw away books after they are "read." Not even after chapther 1. Most people don't even finish books. People just survey text.
I am happy when I read sciene-fiction though. I feel like I am going to get lost in the text and never come back. Pulps are that powerful. Only a few hobbiest can train themselfes to dive into a pulp.
The text helps me understand how I write too. I can learn how other people
write. Intresting. I might as well steal some concepts from them.
Sitting on my bed, alone in my bedroom. The sun finally came out. Getting bored meditatin and writing. Stream of consiousness dosen't work. It goes nowhere. It goes back to being bored and doing nothing. Not everything should be written down.
I think I have been scarred by school. One day, the thoughts would go away and I can overcome. I am going back on the battlefield again. I should prepare myself to verbally fight again. I should be conifident in myself.
900? I should stop there.