On Saturday I had a lost day. No formal work, no stairs, didn't even go outside. It's very hard to find the energy and I didn't have any on Friday either when you know exactly how it's going to go before you do anything. Doesn't matter what you do or how you do it. And while you're all alone and hated and feared by so many people and then feared by the people who don't hate you.
This is how I go around in life, to give one example, but it's what blankets all. My moving prison. I put up a photo of my mom and niece on Instagram. And because it wasn't me, didn't pertain to me, to what I do, didn't include me, more people hit the like button. Am I supposed to respect these people and not think they're total cowards? These same people love what I write. But they won't hit the like button if it's just me. Something I wrote, a photo of me, something about me. Something cool, fascinating. A neat photo from a place I've gone to. If it can be traced to me, they are paralyzed with fear. They are that scared of me because of greatness. Think about that. Too scared to hit the damn like button. What extreme, absurdist level of fear is that? But they read the stuff, and they come here. They come here a lot. They don't mean me ill. They are just that intimidated by me. More intimidated than they could be by anyone else, like I'm some supernatural being to them and the only one they know of or know personally, in some cases. How do you get somewhere when everyone feels about you the way people feel about me? When you make them feel that way because of greatness? It's a moving prison. And then there are obviously so many who hate me more than they hate anyone else. For the same reasons. Not because of anything bad or anything I've done to anyone. Look at the person of these pages and who they are morally. Here is my life, my inner self, in the plainest of views. The problem is always the good things. How extreme they are. The work, the mind, the person, the strength, the productivity, the character, etc.
Then I get up, I'm completely alone and have been for many years now. Alone, feared, envied, despised, trapped, because of greatness. Good looking guy, right? Kind, right? More than kind. I haven't been on a date in eight years. It's just me, every day, working so hard, knowing what the result will be before I start, and all the time I'm doing it, as I look back at the most mind-blowing work there has ever been, just staring me in the face and piling up to mountainous levels completely lacking in precedent. Normally, I find a way to work anyway, though it's rare that I'm fighting as much as I need to fight, which is another big issue. But I haven't had that energy lately. Even if everyone was on my side and singing praises and treating me justly and as I deserve and as they'd treat anyone else, and not seeking to suppress me, my effort of late isn't going to get it done in terms of what I am looking to do, which is change the world to the good more than anyone ever has by the biggest of margins. And it's not like it's nice to stay in this disaster of an apartment. It's like giving in to death and being buried alive. So not good.
I wish ulsters were still worn. I feel like I would look good in an ulster in an ulster-favored world.
Must-win is misused term in sports, but things do happen fast in a five-game series and all of a sudden the Braves--who were shut out Saturday--and the Dodgers--who were rocked--have problems on their hands. They both have an advantage, I think, in not playing today, which slows down the momentum of the Diamondbacks and Phillies, respectively. You might as well leave Clayton Kershaw off of your postseason roster and that has been the case for his entire career. A postseason dog. The Phillies have big-time belief in themselves. The Braves could get swept right out of this thing. And how about those Texas Rangers? Dropped that final game of the year to fall back into a Wild Card spot and they haven't lost since. The Twins got their split in Houston and that series looks like it may go the full five.
BC led Army most of the day Saturday in the rain, then fell behind and came from behind late to win it. Sounds like they just ran the ball again and again. I didn't see the game.
Started head work on a horror story.
Friend took his daughter to the viewing--that's how he described it--of her friend who just died. She wanted to go. He texted me that it was horrible. It'd have to be. I responded, "I'm sure it was. Learn from it. Tell Remy you are proud of her. Make better choices. Live life. Don't just be there. Wake up."