It feels like I'm losing today. I hate the way ello is right now. Maybe I've got the wrong idea here in this Hell of hells. Maybe I need to give up on everything I've done so far. Drop the mentality. Call off the pitty party. I just want to find my confidence. I don't even know what to say. My side of the table is being hushed by theirs. I don't like jokes. And I don't like cleverness.
I've studied the json but it does not make sense to me. I don't need to be an all around genius. All I want is a way to publish the feeds chronologically.
This is the way things go. I am the constant failure. I give up. That's what my wife always says. How to pick it up? How to find the power? All that matters to me is providing for my family. But it's like I can't work. It's like I am handicapped. The guilt is weighing on me. What is the purpose of this? What is the purpose of writing?
How am I supposed to support my wife? It's all falling apart. Here come the thirties. I am stuck in this pit of lacking confidence. My inability to read Jason makes me wonder what I am doing in this notepad wasteland. Maybe I should go back to Wordpress. What difference does it make?
If you click up against it, you can feel it there, the block you've set up against your progress. A mental wall.
Spotify has such a better catalogue than Pandora. I only wish the radio was better. Every day I am hoping that they integrate with Last.fm
I have to go to Kim's Millenial Market to get peanut butter and bread. These are the assignments of Agent Moreau. Part of me thinks that I should be looking for a job, but my parents are coming to town soon. Craigslist. Katerine is who I want to be listening to. Pandora does not have him in their catalogue.
I need to find a way to make money. Not doing anything is writer's block in this world. The pressure is driving me crazy. I need to get my wife off my back. I need the fire to be burning. Lil' Jizzer style. I've got to try to climb out of this pit. The first step is getting in the shower.
I'm writing to save my soul but it is a frantic scramble. The shower water is on. It is heating up. Half of my body is coldly wet from when I attempted to get in even though it was not warm enough.
I'm losing sight of the purpose of it all, playing these words for funds. I mean, my wife expects if of me. I just can't figure out how to wrap them into that spell that opens people's pockets. I can't find the link. It's like I have to get a job, but they take up so much of your time. And my parents are coming so shortly
First thing's first, I have to go to Kim's. Special Assignment, Moreau. Peanut butter and bread.
Go for a walk is what she says to do, Lilli. That sweet freckle of my dreams. I released a bit of the internal combustion her way. She checks the site at least twice a day for anything new. She is looking to make something new. she is working on a site but won't show me the address yet.
I have gone to the ends of the Earth and I am now a ghost wandering the edges of this city in flip-flops. This all feels like practice. I am still trying to learn so much. Button the same yellow shirt that I wore yesterday and take the golden headband off with the tassle unwrapping on the arm of which.
She can certainly sense the hope slipping from my voice. It's sad to watch because it is her hope too.