second-hand’s nictitate

Awake.  Been so for about 90 minutes.  On day’s menu: Writing, delayed xmas shopping, Charles Schwab visit.  Need to not have a single stray penny.  Not with little Kerouac under me.  Thinking I have more change in that German mug, here in desk, than I think.  I’ll use all that for this “stock portfolio.” Don’t want to be like a character I know, where months ago they said, “I want to get ahead, I don’t want to just be okay, you know?” This particular role’s nearly 40.  40.. hard for me to even type that.  When I’m “40,” I’ll be in a house, an independent writer, finally at Equilibrium.  And it’ll be here before it’s known, I know.  Time assaulting me everyday.  But this, these quick entries, my best weapon.  Again, I know time’s set to win, but I’ll be firing till I’m quiet.

Might venture up to AV Winery, to pick up shipment.  Have those three ’09 Nicole’s waiting.

11:10am.  Back in office.  From Plath’s propulsion, bought a very nice, artisanal journal at Barnes & Noble.  Going to be its own project, not having it diluted.  Its own book.  Starting with poetry.  Aiming to live as Artistic as possible.

4:50pm.  Beer on desk with me.  Have 1 hour of writing time, straight.  As Ms. Alice took Mr. Jack to some activity for moms and their children.  Printing novel’s remainder tonight.  Don’t know if I want it deemed a “novel.” It’s just a book.  Loving this new leather-bound journal I bought today.  Already scribbled a verse.  A shorter verse, yes, but I can always to it add later.  The Comp Book, still active, on active duty.  The new journal, an isolated writing bay, as Ms. Plath practiced during her days.  Clocking in soon.  Should get these pages out.  Know I’m going to have to add a couple paragraphs here, there.  And I have more than enough bulk lines for such motion.

Pages printing.  Listening to Wine Bar beats, Pandora.  Haven’t forgot about that fantasy I’d often address on those Napa Literary Lunches.  Definitely just a fantasy, at this point.  Was just thinking, after this book’s completion, full fruition, eventual sales campaign [hate that word, as it’s a “box word”..], I’ll finally get to take my revenge.  And people close to the writer know what he addresses.  I will have my day, soon.  The book, due 12/31, now.  Give mySelf 2 weeks.  And again, that means it has to be full finished, printed, ready for sale.

IMG_0812Was just thinking, “What if I could make this deadline, finish this bloody book.. sell it?” I can.  Why am I asking.  Reading 25 pages tonight, 30 tomorrow [all day’s assignment], 30 next, 30 again [even though there isn’t 30 left after reading last 30..].  75 pages under my chin, at 5:34p.  Honestly, I’ve never come this far with a book “idea.” I credit little Jack.  If I fail, AGAIN, in bring a book to fruition, this will be wasted money, time, and more importantly writing, Life.  But that won’t happen.  On beer 2, printing remaining pages…  Just ordered printing of remaining sheets.  Already see I need to add content.  32 pages in cue..  Excited to see the rough rough draft of this piece.  Not going to do more than 3 ms prints, as I can’t afford it [as a Self-printed penman].

Distracted by this new gorgeous journal, the café music taking me back to Paris, among other fascinations.  Don’t remember writing some of these paragraphs.  Going to have to get re-acquainted with my manuscript.  Have to say again how enthralled I am with these reading assignments.  And the assigned author: ME.  I’m just sinking into my egotistical hole, “Drinking my own Kool-Aid,” as GM at the box, Carl, always used to say.  Which is interesting, as they that’s all management there wanted us to do from them…  Sip.  Their.  Serum.

Again, I will have my revenge.

The manuscript, completely printed.  Just looking at it makes me feel.. more buzzed than I actually am.  Need to open an amazing wine, tonight.  One of my Lancaster’s?  No.  How about the NV blend that Sophie gave me, fruit from her father’s vineyard.. maybe.  Curious to see what that tastes like.  But I want to open something I otherwise wouldn’t.  Tonight, a definite victory against time.  The first draft of my first seriously Self-pushed book, finished.. still can’t believe it.  In manila file folder, or whatever you’d call it, appropriately.  It’s safe.  Here.  With its Author.

Going downstairs to find something crazy to open.  Leaving the wine stash here, upstairs office, alone.  Follow me…

9:11pm.  Turns out, the ’09 Sophia’s Hillside Cuvée made it to my glass.  Much better than my last visit, and that one wasn’t at all bad either.  A much more melodic palate approach; loving the chocolate & espresso notes on the finish, darkened mint [?].  Lots of vanilla on mouth supporting gentle presence of blueberry, raspberry, a little maple; flawless oak integration.  You can tell the winemaker, Jesse Katz, projected his efforts with this wine.  There’s Art here.. display, recital.  Makes me want to abandon this device, hop into the pages of my new journal, atop which Ms. Plath waits, smiles from her cover.  Being in the bookstore today, remind me of what I really want.  Never want my books to be put in some one-dimensional, simplistically ambiguous, evasive, populace-pleasing category.  So I’ll sell them mySelf.  Cold in the condo castle, left my sweater in Kerouac’s Room.  Hopefully this Cab-dominated character colludes to keep the diarist warm.

The pictures from old phone, now on this little memory stick.. just making me appreciative of certain facets.  My son, the writing, wine, wine’s world, the people I meet, Kunde for all they’ve done.. much on horizon for the Bottled Ox, and I can’t wait till time again hits.  And now that I think about it, I’m wrong when I say its “victory” is inescapable for me.  I’m the one winning, as I’m ignoring it with every paginated pulse.  THAT, deserves a sip, one sizable, and another glass following.  Sip, sip … NO–  Read, read [my rough draft!] …

12/17/12, Monday [my saturday]