It was a day like any other day, 24 hours long and ending in Y. (Douglas Adams, Dirk Gently)
And this is a post like any other post, I start out with one topic and write my way towards things I didn’t even realise I was thinking about.
A good day because:
Dog walk
Food
Meds
Coffee with friend
Chores
Watch sunset in gdn with dog
My expectations were reduced to zero when I was 21. Everything since then has been a bonus. (Stephen Hawking)
A crappy day because:
I seem to be, without trying, ruminating to some extent, about dead cousin, mother and dog
Tremors
Nausea
Muscle spasm
Missing nextofkin a lot
You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this. (Henry David Thoreau)
The lists are sorta even-stephens, methinks. I wish to fuckery that I’d actually take pleasure in something – it seems churlish and ungrateful and although I am neither of those things, it ain’t me babe. I used to pride myself of recognising and relishing joyous things.
Maybe none of us really understand what we’ve lived through, or feel we’ve had enough time. (Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go)
As the cognitive fecking dulling does its thing, I understand more and more why bipolar people frequently ditch their meds. I’m not going to, but suddenly I can relate to the urge. A mixture of razor wit and intelligence, and utter idiocy, has always been the way I see myself. Now I’m starting to wonder whether the meds are ushering me towards moron or mediocre. Neither appeals. I’m still intelligent, but … ag you guys know how it goes.
Tomorrow is no hazardous affair, a day like any other day: tomorrow is the result of many yesterdays and comes with a potent, cumulative effect. I am tomorrow what I chose to be yesterday and the day before. It is not possible that tomorrow I may negate and nullify everything that led me to this present moment.
(Henry Miller, The Cosmological Eye)
Books and poems and articles and excerpts are how I try to make sense of concepts. When I’ve read enough, I start formulating some thoughts of my own. Sometimes it’s all done without making a mark, sometimes it’s on this blog, sometimes it’s curating stuff on Pinterest and sometimes it’s drawing or stitching clumsy cartoons that are so hard for me, and consume so much brain power, that clarity arrives stealthily.
Oh, now, now, now, the only now, and above all now, and there is no other now but thou now and now is thy prophet. (Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls)
I wish this farking spasm would vanish. Xanax didn’t solve th
at one. Hot shower #3 of the day comin’ up.
… and so grow gently old all down the unchanging days and die one day like any other day, only shorter. (Samuel Beckett, “Malone Dies”)
I miss my Hyaenadog such a lot. Poor sweet boy. Poor sad Girldog.
Death twitches my ear;
‘Live,’ he says…
‘I’m coming.’
(Virgil)
Ten years to Tahiti, dude, ten years. Anyone wanna buy a soul?
okaylist daylist playlist:
queen – those were the days – ohhh freddie …
jim jones – perfect day – not the jim jones you’re thinking of and not the song you’re thinking of either.
lou reed – perfect day – and a perfect song too.
nick cave & the bad seeds – sunday’s slave – love love love nick cave.
kirsty mccoll – days – RIP, lovely songstress.
faith no more – easy like sunday morning – one of those times when the cover is better than the original. IMNHO.
john frusciante – wednesday’s song – a solo RHCP. He did an album with Josh Klinghoffer that I like very much.
new order – blue monday – so cheesy, so catchy.
leonard cohen – on that day – shhh, I don’t find him depressing, mkay?
morrissey – every day is like sunday – he cheers ne up too. Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now makes me snigger.
rem – bad day – I love them so much.
the pogues – I’m a man you don’t meet every day – there’s a lilt in the melody like the lilt in Irish accents. Erm. Eire, not Northern.
