There are the notes from my novel, Redemption.
My main character Roy Bacon has taken to blogging.
When your up for 21 hours a simple Facebook post won't do, you have to write a blog post. (note to self, buy some Facebook stock) A simple Facebook post won't do. I need room. Room to write, uncensored, barely spell checked writing. Just going. Just me and the page and not enough filter. I feel trapped in Italy now and writing will set me free. Maybe that's why I don't sleep. Maybe if I stop sleeping Carla will come back and we can start over.
Just here, just now.
I'll wait for her and think of something good to say. Something good to write,
Except this, with an intro like that you have to write something really heart stopping, do you know what I mean? My life hanging in the balance, just like everyone elses.
Story Idea - I developed a therapy that re-channels murderous rage in comic burst of simple practical joke.
That's not quite it, with no sleep, what would my brain really like to let spill? Past all the thoughts of love and joy. Somewhere behind wanting people to be free to expressed themselves and live in Presence of their own joy is there something else?
Yes, I want chocolate. Yes, I want vodka.
I forget to tell that I gave booze for the month of January. So far, so good. But Lord knows there are times when I want a drink. I want to slip into the pleasant tingle and numbness that it provides. I need to call it, "it" to keep it's distance from. When I call it by name, it sounds too familiar.
Vodka, sounds like victor, like winner, like a chicken dinner. Vodka like a song in my mouth that tastes cleanly of poison and reminds me to let the truth spill.
Story Idea - I developed a therapy that teach monkey's to find lost car keys
