Yeah this one time my friend was talking about Hemingway’s suicide and I said, “He was crushed by the weight of his own genius.” And this guy was the kind of guy who loves to be blown away and he said, “Holy shit! Did you hear what he just said? Crushed by the weight of his own genius! Damn!” Well I felt like a god damn wordsmith, even though I knew I got that shit straight out of Family Guy. I wonder sometimes if the old boy has figured it out. I picture him watching the episode and he sees that and it’s like that scene from The Usual Suspects when the cop is sipping his coffee and looking at his board and sees Skogee, Illinois and Kevin Spacey is in a flashback talking about a barbershop quartet and he drops his coffee and realizes I was a regular bullshit artist.

Hey so that move I was talking about and trying to plan it? That shit went just about as bad as it possibly could. The things I planned fell through so hard and I switched the plan around all at the end and it took fifteen hours to get it done and cost twice as much as it should have and I should have just planned that shit a lot better. If I had made only one better choice it would have saved six hours. If I had made two better choices I would have been done at noon. Well, I guess planning is all about unforeseen shit or whatever I was talking about, unknowable parameters I can’t remember what all but the funny thing is that I didn’t even get the knowable parameters right.

I’ve had two days that I had a few hours alone and I reverted exactly to the same state I always have. Watched like seven hours of porn and ate whatever was lying around and then did the dishes and tried to feel like I had accomplished something, or at least would some day. I can’t leave myself alone for too many days because sooner than I know I start slipping.