Still need to do budget. Today was payday, IS, something I appreciate but as well hate as I should be paying self from writing, from essays, from blogging from….
MAF on call upstairs, think the 1-monther is asleep. Listening to music, keeping to my time table okay, I guess. Want to get a haircut having again a quarantine coiffure, but the person I texted hasn’t returned my message, and my friend Sara booked ridiculously quick.
One of Irby’s essays in ‘we are never meeting’ is titled something like “Fuck it, bitch. Just be fat.” The attitude I admire and the acceptance of self has me writing and thinking in a comic’s curve and compositional habit this morning. For me, I’m saying, “keep wandering in your thoughts.. change your mind… fuck staying in one place…” But then I wonder if I’m selling myself, and is that what Irby is suggesting?
Henry crying, and I think it’s funny.. that I just said he wasn’t and now he is. Going to get him. Need to hold him more. He’s grown, noticeably. Fear tomorrow he’ll be a small elephant, or some kid-sumo that I can only enter into competitions and people would be like ‘That’s fucked up…” and I’d respond that it’s not at all, it’s hilarious.
I go up to check on him, and his mother has him in arms while on a zoom call. ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOM…. How many times have we heard that word since this all started. Tired of it, tired of the screen, looking at it. I’m actually going to take notes in the 1948 now ‘cause honestly I can’t look at this goddamn thing anymore. I need a break from my typical writing break. It’s fine… keep wandering, keep exploring, keep with the inconsistent divisions of expressive decision.