WCMarchese

I have been neglecting this, among other things creativity related. I had a post but did not put it up. Maybe it hit home and I didn't want to face it, or perhaps I just never got around to getting it on here. I don't know. I'm too tired. Overtime is been still a thing at the time of writing this. That is a part of my absence from here. Also, I haven't been feeling creative. There's that.  I was able to renew my video editor subscription for another year. I'm trying to get the energy up to start some new projects. It's just I start something and feel decent and then the flame goes out. Is there a breeze somewhere? Lips tightened and blowing in my direction? Or am I just thinking too much?  I'll see.  But for now, back to work.  See you next time.  WCM 

Haven't been writing on here for a couple weeks I think. Overtime has been a part of my daily these past two weeks and unfortunately is a necessity at this time.  I'm getting used to it, so I'm going to try and post a few times if not every day.  I have, however, been working on my other writing. So that's a good thing. Outlining one of my novels that have taken so many turns and changes to the story it's not even funny. Well, maybe it is a bit funny.  I am fiddling with an older laptop and opened Chrome and saw my Blogger account pop up so I said you know there's no better time, right?  I want to post a review I've done. I notice those do better than most posts on here. But that's a different thing. The daily posts are just for practice and getting thoughts out. Mostly as a diary/thought pad. Or something.  Talk soon.  WCM 

Not much to write. I'm tired, going home. I'm burnt out, but I could muster a little energy to get home. And am writing now. On train. Not too bad. Using my cell. Of course I had something thought out earlier today, but you know how that goes.  I'll be back later. Stay positive and keep pushing ahead.  WCM

Mondays. What can I say. They are terrible. Especially when you have GERD and eat habanero sauce the day before. Oh, and don't take TUMS before you go to sleep. I think that's what it was.   Anyway.   Mondays. Yes. I despise them. As I tap the keys, a small reprieve from the thought of Monday, I still come back to it. It's just there. I have enough days that I can almost take every Monday from now until around September. I think. And I just might do that.   Maybe.   Some say they like to take Fridays off. But why? It's the day before the weekend. You know the next day brings a day off. Anticipation. Just one more day. Why wouldn't you want Monday.   Am I wrong? If you have the weekend off, why would you want Friday off?   May be just me. Let me know what you think. That's if you got this far in the post. If you did. Thank you.   Okay. Back to work. Real work. Not the work I'd like to be doing. Maybe one day.   Now where are those TUMS?   WCM

  It's Friday again. Finally made it. It's hot. Spring coming in with an explosion. And the world keeps turning.  Reminds me of when I was a kid. The soap operas my Mom used to watch. Those were the good days. People tell you not to grow up, and "you'll see". And boy. Looking back on those days really makes me understand. Now when I tell my daughter the same thing, I can't help but think about those days and how my words will fall on deaf ears -- as the saying goes.  But such is life, no? Maybe. That's similar to the phrase I hate: "It is what it is." Just despise it. Because to me it's giving in. In a way. But today is Friday. And the weekend is ahead. So take it easy. Drink lots of fluids and make the best of what you got.  WCM

Am I a smart guy? No. Well. Maybe. I don't think I'm extraordinarily smart. I know how to do things, how to get around things and make tasks easier. Maybe that's smart. Maybe it's a slacker in some people's eyes. Whatever it is, that is the basis for creators and people who bring things to the eyes and ears of viewers and consumers. They want to see something that excites them, that they can enjoy and can't wait to enjoy. Maybe? Well, that's up to you. Personally I prefer YouTubers to the big networks and their shows.   Case in point. Ghost shows. I watch a few channels, maybe more, on YouTube and I enjoy them greatly. They get to the point, to various degrees. I was watching a ghost show on one of the Discovery channels and they kept showing the same thing over and over, commentary, then the clip again and again. Then they teased the next story, which was cut off and followed by a commercial. Then when you got back they had to build it all up again. Then fi

The middle of the week. Pushing up the hill. A few rocks come loose. And maybe a tuft of grass pushes my shoe back as I thrust higher and higher. At the top I look over at the other side. Exhausted. I look back, but it's dizzying. How did I do it? Looking forward again I close my eyes, take a deep breath, open my eyes. Let it out. Take a step forward.   And then I curl into a ball and roll down the other side into Friday.   WCM

Today is a coffee day. Some days I feel like it more than others. It's as though there is a portal inside my esophagus where the coffee flows and is transported to another dimension. Probably a multiverse where another version of me has had too much coffee. And now I know why. Because the coffee on the days I want more goes to myself in that other realm and fills me up there. So those days over there I only want maybe one carafe (about two to two and a half cups), or one cup. But here I want more and more.    Some of the coffee spills over the sides of the portal, because it's not totally flush against it's encasement. That coffee gets by and enriches my mind with knowledge passed down from generations of wise brewers who know why. They just know. And then my brain says. More. Please. So I have another carafe. Or two and a half more cups. To offer up to the multiverse. My other self is getting full of coffee. And what gets by the portal is satiating my "this-world"

What to say? I skipped three days. Like a rock jumping cross a lake. Just like that. Plop plop plunk. It was a crazy three days. Wild. Got quite a bit done. Though, I felt bad not adding anything here. But such is life. Right?   Left.   And here we are. Another Monday. Another day. Another moment in time. When I'm more than I thought... No no no, wait. Let's not go back that far. But it's said that time travel has been figured out. To be honest, we've been doing it with our minds. Memories. Ole factory sense. The Wayback Machine. Oh yes. And the retro YouTube channels. Those old commercials really take me back. Then there is the scary logos. Gotta love those.   But we can relive memories to some degree through these tools. I'm sure there are other methods. Books and movies are also a great rewind. See how things were back in a certain time. And if done well, how they felt and the mood and essence of that history, as well.   Well.   By the time I post this this writi

My post yesterday was tame. Lame? Not like the spontaneous voice that sometimes comes to me when I'm doing the "practice". I hadn't really done the practice yesterday. Just picking things out of my head and placing them on screen and watching it form into something. It wasn't terrible. For a colloquial piece, I guess. And it formed this, which I am editing and adding to now.   But it got me remembering about muses and how some say a force or being comes to them, and when they show up--well, you know the rest. I can see what they mean. But it's not exactly the way they make it seem. You have an overall feeling for the muse. That mindset, that something different, overtakes you. A force? A spirit? Is the flow moving through your body to control you, to work with "the force". It can certainly feel that way sometimes. And the way people say they experience this is their interpretation of that muse thing that comes to them. It can make them a different pe

Okay. So another day. I've been rushing through them. But not wishing them away, at least. For the most part.   I joke with people and say happy Thursday, because of the day off. Once they see what I mean... eh. Who cares lol. I am just typing now trying to think of what I want to write because I forgot what I wanted to write. Same usual. I had something I was thinking about but of course I wasn't by a computer or a method to write it down. I had my phone, but I was walking and in the streets of NYC and I try and pay attention. Morning anxiety, too. Rushing to work. Not as bad as it sounds. At least not like it used to be.   Things change. Times change. Some things don't. That can be good and bad. You must break free from thinking in a cage. Sometimes I can. But once things start to go in a certain direction, I want to revert to how I was thinking.   Small milestones allow some to make it to higher levels in this game of life or stay at the bottom and trying to get the timi

It’s Tuesday and I don’t know what to write. (Just kidding, I wrote this on Monday, just editing it now.) But I’m going to keep writing until something comes to mind, until something pops in my head with the force of a corpse hitting a fan, splattering blood and gristle everywhere, the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Yes, even up there. Splatters flicked in a line, one on top of the other as the fan blade spins. A big chunk slowly dislodges, then peels off the putrefying paint before sliding to one small section of its mass, holding on like a suction cup from a severed octopus tentacle and then finally plopping to the ground with a slimy slap.   The fan looks terrible, too. Not two. Just one.   It smells terrible now. Like a garbage dumpster that can be power washed but still smell like rotten chicken flesh and putrefying produce behind a restaurant. Avocado peals and all kinds of mixed sauces. The warmer weather isn’t helping much, either. It’s a meal for a groundhog, or whatever they

Ah Monday Morning—or afternoon, depending on when I post this. Well, Tuesday if you want to look at it from a different perspective. Friday is off for a lot of people. Not all. I used to be in that boat. Weekend work. Some like it because you get days during the week off. Or the night shift--depending on what part of the night--can work out to be beneficial to an individual who loves the nightlife. Either way. It’s still Monday. And all the things that go with a Monday are still here. Exhaustion. Maybe some anxiety. Depending on how much you miss the weened past.   Sitting down. In front of my computer. Coffee at my side. I’m here. So might as well get on with it. And I’m alive. I get to hit the keys another day. Get thoughts onto this site another day.   I was going to post something this past weekend, but just didn’t feel it. I felt as though I were in a viscus fluid at times, struggling to swim to the surface, but moving too slow to make any real movement. The gel threatening to suf

It's finally arrived. Hope you haven't been wishing life away. Enjoy this, though. It was a rough week. Then again, that's per perspective, purring like a little kitten when it works out in your favor. But when it doesn't, you see everything askew. Growling. Roaring. Shaking the ground. Just shift. Alt and delete? Only if you want to lock it. But stick around for a bit. It's Friday and you have the weekend ahead of you.   Of course, look at next Monday differently now. Look at it as another day. Opportunity. Life.   Right now think in the moment. If your weekend is work-free (day job free) then this is joyous. If you work on the weekend, then this is just another day. Perhaps it's like a Wednesday for you. Perspective. It’s still the weekend.   The weekends always hold a feeling, regardless. End of the week. Time between. Anticipation for a new week. Get things in order. Rest up.   Of course, you may want some entertainment. May I suggest my YouTube channels? I&

Getting there. Inching forward. Every day. But we wish our days away when we wish for the workweek to end. When we wish to get by that obstacle that stands in the way of something more relaxing, something more of what we want to do. Sort of like going through a time machine that ages us, blanking out, thinking of nothing as we dredge through the rough, terrible day to get to the nectar, the good stuff. Is it worth it? Losing your life just to get to a point you think is going to be something more than it possibly will be?   Hey, that something can be great. I don't know. But most of the time it isn't what you thought it to be. Sometimes, like with the holidays, the days leading up to them are the most exciting. Think about that.   You’re mind says, maybe I’ll feel better then. You think about that moment from the point of view of someone who has no ailments, no worries. It’s then you’ll do that thing, or then when things will come together. Meanwhile you’re taking pressure off

I wrote something yesterday because I had some extra gas in the tank. I should have taken that and kept roaring, but progress comes incrementally. That can be a saying. But not really. Because progress can come in great leaps and bounds, as well. Depends. Relative. Yada yada. We move on.   I was thinking about the writing "practice" I've been working on and thought it was funny that I'd be figuring this out (if you can call it that) when AI bots are coming out, when artificial intelligence will be able to write blog posts for you, or stories.   But they ain't got no soul. The AI bots I mean. Or do they? Sentient? Perhaps. Or you can use the sludge they produce and edit it for a post or story. Ugh. Still feels skeezy. Or skeevy. Or both. Either word will work. But I think until they get it perfected one will be able to tell if a real person wrote something or not. Or maybe they won't. Maybe everything will encroach us and take over our mind and as we sit there

Okay. Let's put this to the test. More and more, each day, I'm going to try this when I least think it will work and see what takes shape. I think it will work--to some degree at least. This is what I plan to do:   When you have no wish to write, when you have nothing in your head, when you look at the Word icon, folder, blank screen, anything that pertains to writing. It could be your notepad, a pen/pencil. Blood on the wall. Okay. Don't go too far. Well, you need blood. So, if you're writing a long story and feel faint, use that as your guide to slow it down. You need about 60% of your blood--so take it easy.   Anyway. Pick it up, whatever it is. And just start typing anything. I mean anything. Just like anything. See? Anything. And keep typing. And don't stop. If you mess up, retype the correct word, over and over and over until you get it right, or if you don't then just forget it and keep typing. Don't look back, just let ideas come out, thoughts. Even

Hard to make something up when you can't think about anything. Or maybe I don't want to. You me I. What is it? Am I trying to be in general, or is this talking to myself? Am I listening? If I was listening, I'd probably be a success by now. Unless what I'm saying is all garbage. Is what anyone says worth anything? Who knows? To the right person perhaps it is. I mean, think about it. Even words coming from those who have made it don't do anything for most people. You must have that extra thing that they don't disclose. Or have the drive they had when they used their technique. Maybe some have that at the time they put those techniques to the test. Does this even make sense? To some it may. Eh, who cares. Too much thinking on this. Just do it. Don't try to mimic. Just do what you're going to do. Or don't. That's up to you. But give it a try, at least. What do you have to lose? Unless you gave up everything on a whim and are giving yourself like si

Don't know if anything will come out of this session. I've just missed a Saturday, but I'm not worried too much about the weekends. As things pick up, I may have a fire under me to post more. I'm just not feeling creative lately. Only puffs of smoke coming from an engine that hasn't been used in quite a while. I'll have to change the oil and put some gas in there and see what happens. Of course, as is usually the case, I have ideas and want to put them down but make the mistake of not sitting down and putting them into my phone or laptop. So I lose those ideas. Or I remember the ideas but lose the momentum behind the thought of them when they took place. I even had a motivating picture I wanted to take to use for a post, but I didn't do it. This is something I need to correct on my path to creating again. And I'm not just creating to make more content, money, or other reasons. I'm doing it because when I used to create it was fun, it was a release, a

Finally made it. The weather is cloudy, yet warm. I'm tired but I have extra coffee. I had some things to say walking in this morning, but of course, they are all forgotten now. It's okay though. If I remember them later I will see if I write them down.   I did open a very old story I'd created back in 2017 (or saved, one or the other). I wanted to see how bad it was. Haha. But it wasn't half bad. There were a lot of parts that were unclear, but that could be updated. And I'm looking through the new lens of no nonsense if-it's-bad-it's-bad spectacles. I originally wanted to see if there were any old ideas I could glean. What a word, huh. I meant spectacles, not glean.   So maybe I'll tinker with that later. As I ring the bell of summer, starting the weekend with glitter and glam. That's a sham. Hmm. Just wanted to rhyme a bit.   I did take a picture coming in, so I'll throw it up at the top. A local restaurant/bar place.   Remember, if you're

Today. Thursday. What to write what to write. Well. What we think about when we're alone. When the lights are out, or the sun goes down. Sounds like a song. But these moments are, or could be, the scariest moments because we are left alone with ourselves. We see the rest of our life splayed out before us, but we can't see it clear. It's there. Blurry perhaps. The moments and events are just at the tip of our tongue, like a lost name or word we're thinking of but can't quite get it out. It looks like a roadmap. Then it disappears. Then it comes back. It's there, like your thoughts, like your memories, just out in front of you. And there is a feeling. Like a knowing. Some can see this clearer, perhaps. And some don't see it at all. But they feel it. It's there. And they know something is there. Maybe they don't accept it or ignore it. Because acknowledging it can be maddening. As is creating things.   Maddening.   To do this or not. If you don't so

I am challenging myself to write something from my mind every day. It may be on the front end, or may be covered up with soil and buried, but the tips should be showing. These tips will give you an idea, but nothing more. It may spark a thought in your mind. Or you may be on my wavelength and understand what I'm trying to convey. Maybe you piece/string together other things I've said prior and build a bigger picture. Maybe you think you have strung something together but it's all just random nonsense trying to merge together like in those merge games on your mobile device.   Whatever the case may be, hopefully it gets you to think. Hopefully it gets you coming back to see what I think next. Not that I'm important like that, but our thoughts are here, our ideas, our merging of pondering is interesting. Maybe? Perhaps? Who knows?   But if you don't mind, maybe check out the ads on this blog while you're here. For some reason Google monetized my blog and not my You

Ok, so I've skipped a few days. Been a rough few days. But I've been thinking about things, ways to get things done. Opened my video editor and messed with it a bit. Then that wall came and bam. But it's an excuse. It's not there. Even though it feels real. There never really is a wall/obstacle. It's just what you let keep you back. There are always ways to overcome things in your way, or work to deal with them as best as possible. This probably should have been a Monday post. But it's Tuesday. Better late than never, as the saying goes. Cliché? Sure. So what?   The fact of the matter is you should be doing what you need to do but you're not because social media has its clamps on you and is holding you down, holding you to the ground, or bed, or couch or wherever. Sometimes it lurks on public transportation and reaches out when you least expect it. Maybe you miss a stop, or maybe you miss out on life around you. Look up at the world, not at a screen. And not

Like the song, but not. Time to wind down the week and wind up the weekend. Get started. Push into those two days that, for most, give respite from the week past. Curl up, read a book, or binge watch an entire series. Get bitten by a radioactive spider and stick to the wall while you watch your favorite show. You need a snack? Make sure you're in aiming distance of the kitchen and reach out, bend your upside-down hand and press the meaty part of your palm with your index finger. Now pull your favorite snack or beverage to you. Might have to open the fridge door, first. But that's ok.   The weather's fine, or it could be course, depending on where you live. But you're indoors. Rest. Relax. Get ready for two days that are gone in the blink of an eye. Almost faster than a writing session. In the moment, giving it all you got, focused. And then you open your eyes, look around, and it's Sunday evening. You feel the cold beads of sweat forming from the pores of your brow.

It's Thursday. And life has moved on another day. Thank God. Because I'm writing this, and if you're reading this it means you're still alive. Yes. Life is moving in a progression to an end. Until we figure out more profoundly how time may be a thing itself and that we must know how to use it, to manipulate it, to go back and relive moments, or help ourselves and humanity from going on the wrong path. Just theories. Who knows how it is in the end? You gotta have faith. And sleep.   Woke up very tired this morning. Half in a dream. Those are the worst to come out of and into a morning of getting ready for work. Terrible. I want to go back into the dream. It was real at that moment. Which makes me think of that theory that what if dreams are reality and life is but a dream, sweetheart. Hello Hello again... Um. Wait. Of course, there is also lucid dreaming. Some have practiced this. Pretty much being always awake, working on things, living a double life. Sounds interesting

What to say today? I don't know. But it's cold out there and smelling some firewood would be nice right about now. I've been writing, but who cares? Right? No, WRITE! It's nice while it's happening, the writing, though I can't seem to shake the heebie jeebies. But almost as comical as another Billy in the 1920s. Research is key, but not necessary. It's fiction. C'mon! Seriously now. It's cold outside. Baby. But don't put me in the corner. Okay. So maybe not too seriously.   I'm thinking about later, but not too hard. Don't want to wish the days away. Work has been a bit taxing these days, almost to rival the government. Which reminds me. I have to do my taxes, too. So many things to remember. But they will get done. Just as writing will. And I'm Will. And this has been another post.   WCM

Or just break me off a piece of that Kit Kat bar. But the one from Europe. I've heard it tastes better. Frosty fright, can't sleep at night, eat late and you just might... Well, give yourself something to digest in the morning.  Overtime kills, but money thrills. Especially when you don't have enough of it. So suck it up Jack and get out there. Jump into the flow and get that dough. Even if it evaporates in your hand as you watch it being placed within fingers that curl and try to hold for as long as they can.  Then stop. Take a deep breath. And watch the swirls of snow blow all about. Oh, and swallow. Because you just took a bit of that chocolate, remember? WCM 

Jubilee, except maybe not as long, the length, but still extended, for your viewing pleasure. The weekend. It's been happening for quite some time now, and even before they were able to calculate days. Depends on how you look at it: perspective. They? Sure. Whoever you want them to be. But we're here, the weekend, and it's joyous, it's wonderful. Rest. Or don't. But you mustn't waste it.    Look around. Dig your heels into the ground. Don't let them pull you along by the invisible rope that tightens each day. Loosen it up. Loosen up. Relax just for the sake of relaxing. There's time. Or is there?    Of course. Life is what you make of it. So create it well. Think as you sculpt. But remember to help others, too. Because that adds to it all. Don't you see? Figuratively, because the big picture is too big to take in with your eyes. Or mind.  Live.    All the past is in the past. Sip a drink and think about this, maybe in front of a fireplace, maybe arou

Renown. I just wanted to use that word. Don't know why. Or maybe I do. Just seemed like an exceptional way to start off an essay. Swaying back and forth in my chair, in a trance, staring at the words, moving back and forward, side to side, in anticipation of my next words. Am I that interesting--that I want to hear what I'm going to say before I say it? Think it? But don't I know what I'm going to say? Think. That's strange, like a dirty birdy. Except I'm not dirty and definitely not a bird. I'm not in a mothball-smelling bed, laying there as some hulking lady hovers over me with a sledgehammer. Thank God. She has a hankering for knees it seems. Or seemed. But, you see, that never happened. Nothing to see here folks.   Keep on with your daily activities, reading things that are meant to thrill, or horrify? Wires sliding out from the box set before you, pulling out, seeking, finding your flesh, eyes, ears. They burrow in. But if you open your eyes now, you do

It matters not what you do, but what you think you are doing? Is this true? Or a lie? Fooling yourself. Like that family member who says they lost ten pounds, while they shove a pastry down their gullet. In their mind they are an Adonis, or Aphrodite (are those the names?). And that donut is the elixir to all their woes. It is demolished and melted down a tube only to be burned for a magical energy that stimulates weight-loss. At least in their eyes. They glow, inside shaking with exuberance. They throw their head up to the sky and dance. Happiness envelopes them in a sugary coating, fat encrusting on flat surfaces. Twisting and turning, they spin and sing and dance and--   Put that donut down. You have work to do. It's Monday. And thinking is the first step. Open your eyes, cats dancing all around. On cupboards, cabinets, tables, and chairs. Roiling about in ecstasy upon nip of cat. They don't think this, they know this. This is their reality. The other cats all around don'

Here we are. Another day another dollar, but sometimes that dollar is just fifty cents. And yet we keep moving forward, pulling on. Crawling at some point, perhaps--if we didn't take care of ourselves or were highly unlucky. But some continue, clawing at the cliff's edge so as not to fall into the abyss, never to be seen again. Yet still with ourselves. We came into this world alone and will leave that way, so look around and make this world your own. Now. Because what you see today will only be a memory burned onto your mind later, fading slowly as the light does at twilight. And night takes its grip all too tightly as you search, eyes wide, for that which had just zoomed right by. Gone as you watch the sand slide silkily through your fingers. No matter how tightly you push them together you can't stop that escape. Escape!   Escape! This. If at least only for a moment.   Look around. Dance. Hold on to the day until your hands get tired and you release and fall into

  Late night. Busy week. Not keeping up with how I wanted to post. But that's OK. Tomorrow is another day. Just be sure to live in this one. And don't look back, unless you're in a comfy arm chair with a little bit of brandy. And I don't drink, but I do to survive. And eat. Meat. But I can do without it. I'm beat. Long day today. Now I'm sitting on a train at almost 9pm and pecking out this post to put upon the net. Yet I don't know what to say except that I have nothing to say and I guess that's something. No?  I look back and realize it was all in vain. Yet there was something there. Then I turned and the future was before me. Where should I go? Do I walk backwards? That's hard to do with achy knees. Probably a storm coming. What the heck am I talking about? Vane vein vain, I ponder while trying not to fall asleep on the train.  WCM 

I took the picture above one rainy night when coming home from work. I wanted to see if the lighting on my phone camera would be brighter than what I saw with my eyes. It usually is. The lighting on phones these days is incredible.  It was good but didn't get to the far ends of the field I took a snapshot of. So I decided to brighten it up a bit.  Below is the end result and I see a lot of interesting things far off in the back. Now of course this could just be pareidolia. That is where the brain puts faces, or familiar images, to something to make sense of it. But sometimes these seem to be uncanny, or the snapshot--or video--captures something that isn't so supernatural.  You decide in the pic below. Maybe I'll do another post where I break down what I see. I see a few interesting spots. One I see just now is the lighted tree on the left (which looks sort of like a V, like two trees splitting), just a little off to the right of this, after the point where the tree splits,

  Ok. I'm going to try and get that picture up tonight. After this post. I've been thinking of other locations to snap a shot. But might be overthinking it. So I'm going to just go off of instinct. Let's see what you see, or if there is anything to see in the picture.  Hopefully, there'll be another post shortly.  WCM 

1/6/2023 There are ideas I get, ideas I want to put up on here, and then when I get behind the keyboard to post something everything disappears. Where it goes? I don't know. Perhaps the nerve, or neuron, or whatever is waiting/hiding behind a membrane wall in my skull, peeking out, slinking back, until I'm not poised over the keys, fingers bent, ready to divulge its details to all. And it's snickering (hmmm, sounds delicious), ready to jump into the brain room and plug back into my frontal lobe and let me have it!   Oh well. It will come. Maybe I'll pull my phone out and peck out the ideas when that happens. I'm excited, psyching myself up for posting that possible ghost/creeper/pareidolia picture I have. It will be an exciting weekend, indeed. Or not. Who knows? Haha. Perhaps it will become something, or lead into something else. Like when I wait for one of my favorite YouTubers to do a live show on Friday, or Saturday.   Let's see.   Hmmm, anything else I'

1/5/2023 So...I missed a post yesterday, I think. Yup, I checked. I did. But it was busy at the job. Back to work for the new year, I guess.   I have a new idea. I took a picture in the dark coming off the train a few weeks ago, and I made the picture brighter so you can see things in the back and around the trees and such. There are a few parts that look particularly interesting. I'll let you judge. I'll point out the parts I think are interesting. Pareidolia? Perhaps. But...   I enjoy watching those ghost videos on YouTube and the Discovery channels--the exploration videos, as well. Urban exploration. Abandoned buildings, silos, nuclear bunkers. Sometimes they find things more frightening than ghosts just searching alone. One is Franco TV. Some seem more legit than others. One of the things I like about Franco is if he doesn't find anything he doesn't find anything. That simple. Sometimes viewers point things out. It's the exploration that takes up the slack when

1/3/2023 A New Year. Back to work. I found a story I was messing with. Just something I was testing this new writing method I'm doing. It looked good, yet a mess. But I had never gone back to edit it. It didn't seem like I had written it. But then again, that could be because it had been quite some time before I reread the story. Wow. Just checked and I had written that back in April of 2022. Almost seemed like I had done it last week, or something. I'm telling you, it's crazy how fast time seems to be going by. And that confirms it yet again. How fast the holiday and New Year went past I mean.    So far so good. I misplaced my keys, so I can't get into my drawer at work. But that's ok. I have what I need in my bag. Hopefully, the guy who helped last time can help with the key again. (Update: he never came into work. Oh well. I survived).   The news doesn't seem too crazy so far. But I'd heard a few disheartening things on the way in. I have to

I have no drive. I see videos and work on the web and remember. I feel that spark. But that is all it is. And I don't want to discourage anyone. I'm feeling this, but I also know that I can bring back what once was.  I just have to search for what it is that had made me want to create in the past. Or what it is that just made me want to get up and do things.  It is the second day of the new year. Tomorrow is work. Four-day week. Sure. But I'm waiting for that anxiety that comes just before starting. And I realize that some of that anxiety is from not having done what I had set out to do over the weekend. So frustrating.  But I had made a plan to put up what I was thinking and this is what is coming to my mind now. Of course, I had paragraphs typed out on a Word document. But some things I cringe at. And they are boring, or repetitive. And until I feel comfortable with just throwing up nonsense (which I had said I would do as part of that practice) then that will have to lin