I know how today is going to shake out, I think.
I am going to sit here, at Duquesne, for a bit. I’m going to troll around on the internet, blog, listening to experimental post-rock music from youtube, try and justify the term post-rock to myself for the thousandth time, and maybe chat with friends via Facebook. I’m going to read some of a novel called the Court of the Air and remember how much I adore fiction and how fun it is.
I’m going to go wait for the bus on Smithfield street downtown like I always do and, assuming a coworker of mine is not on the bus, spend the ride home thinking about the book I finished last night called The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane and how much I enjoyed every last word of it. I’m going to smile when I think of how much I can see it shaping Leah’s life, she being the one who gave it to me, and silently thank her for bringing it into mine.
When I get home I’m going to try and record some experimental music called Decaying Animatronics Underwater that I promised I’d write and create. It should be fun. I am going to heavily favor the octave pedal in this recording, most likely, deepening the tone and low-end of my guitar extraordinarily, creating very post-rock music myself. I will be excited and smiling when I’m not cursing my idiot-fingers for not being dexterous enough to get it right the very first time. I won’t even have to justify the genre-title to myself for the thousand and first time, I’ll just let it go.
I’ll eat dinner and then go to Guitar Center with my neighbor Deet. I’ll try and call Nik and see if he wants to come too and chill with us there. He may or may not. Time will determine that for me. I’ll wander throughout the store, staring at how much everything shines like bright hard candy and covet it even though what I already have is arguably better. I’ll play a whole bunch of guitars in the store and probably buy a new set of strings for my twelve-string guitar, it having been restrung yesterday and now I have no more backup strings for it. I will consider buying a slide for myself and decide against it as I am trying not to spend money right now on unnecessary things. I will begin to think about money and taxes and the IRS and how I hate them and then be sad for a small increment of time. I will shake this feeling and affirm to myself that I will do well in life and that I ought to have no fear, only a healthy respect for life’s jagged edges and the cleverness to skirt around them.
On the car ride home I might think about Egypt or how I worry about Cryptozoology’s future and whether or not it’ll ever be recognized as a legitimate field. I will remind myself of how so few things are never recognized as a result of people’s lack of belief. I will remember this same thing happening to me and I will sour for a bit and then brighten again, realizing I am in the company of friends and the fact that anyone fool enough to doubt me is not worth my time and is better off forgotten. I will take joy in the fact that they are dead to me, if still very alive to the world. I will spend the rest of the car ride talking and trying not to draft too far ahead in one of the other two novels I have in the works. I will remind myself that all I am allowed to do is annotate them until I finish drafting and editing my current one. I will remind myself of what focus means.
I will return home at some point and continue to write my novel, enjoying unfolding the story and be filled with the small satisfaction of knowing that with every word my prose improves, my story coils like the oroboros and grows strong and lovely. I will finish this novel, I will tell myself, and it will be published and make me a living I accept. I will remind myself that I can accept no other option and that any sacrifice I must make in order to achieve this dream, one I’ve held since childhood, is worth my time and blood and sleepless nights.
At some point I will take a break from writing, make coffee and listen to guitar playing I one day hope to surpass. I will taste life’s sweetness and wonder at how foolish I am for ever doubting it in the first place. I will, during the course of this break, do anything from read up on conspiracy theories to the Voynich Manuscript to watch silly cartoons on the internet that amuse the child in me.
I will then go to bed and, as I lay my head down, smile and enjoy my triumph over the day, the world and all my detractors, those bastards. I will push my consciousness out of my body and dance among the stars and turn tranquil in an enclosing spiral safe within the burning womb of my own personal sun.
I will remark that this is a good day. A normal day.