Happiness Challenged

Yesterday I hit that ‘can’t do this anymore’ point about 6 p.m. Could not sit down anymore, could not rest anymore, could not NOT smoke anymore. I did my best to treat my addict side….guess I might as well ADMIT my addict side. That half joint in my ashtray got smoked. I rolled another thin one and nursed it, taking hits like a newbie – light hit with a lot of air and then cough, cough. Felt bad about it, but I’d already snapped at my bro (for no reason) and I felt like I looked like this:

I could hardly have that attitude walking into evening telly! Especially on a Doctor Who night. So I did it, I smoked. The good thing is that yes, my smoking is waaaaaaaay down from what it was. Good on me; I didn’t just pick up and start puffing away like a mad eejit. Guess I’ll have to do this in small increments. Maybe when my doc comes back from holiday I’ll ask her about some help. A patch or some gum or some such shit. Ugh. I don’t really feel up to tackling my smoking. I just wanted to cut back. That I’ve done.

My brother has threatened to start getting up even earlier this week. Like myself, he’s now got a bit of a life; things to do and places to be at by a certain time. Rotterdam IS a working city. You find none of that all night partying nonsense that’s in Amsterdam. Here, pretty much everybody is shut down by midnight during the week ’cause tomorrow is a work day. That works for me, and in the past my bro would deal with it and sleep right past the time that everyone was up. But now, he wants to GET UP in the mornings. Yeesh! Not like I can re-wire my brain to be at that slightly punch drunk free wheelin’ writing stage at any other time of day. If I could, I’d do it right now. My sacred mornings are soon to be shattered. So guess who’s pushing herself to get up even earlier? Don’t want to give up blogging first thing. It clears up the debris that’s accumulated in the corners of my brain overnight. Sweeps up all the dust bunnies. I feel clearer and more purposeful after blogging, like I’ve settled something in my own mind. Time, time, time is the issue once again.

I’m not a fast writer. If I was, I’d have more books and stories out there. I be slow. Or rather, I have long periods where nothing goes on paper (or computer) and then a fast push where a lot comes out. I’m inconsistent. That’s more accurate – inconsistent. And of course I’ve been told that’s a bad thing, that I can never be a full time writer because of it because I just can’t churn stuff out at the pace the modern world tells me I have to. That’s a load, told to me by people who are (1) jealous and (2) incapable of understanding how a bipolar artist works. Goddamn! Margaret Mitchell only wrote one book in her life. She didn’t have a follow up to ‘Gone with the Wind’. Yet SHE’S known as an author. These days if you don’t shit a book out every other year you don’t earn that title. Same with everything else. Want to be known as an actor or musician? Better keep producing your stuff, going on tour, working your ass off every single fucking minute of every single fucking day. Don’t think you’ll have a life, ’cause that will take you out of the spotlight and how dare you anyway! Thinking you could have a fucking life AND be an artist at the same fucking time! Geez!

This modern microwave world moves too goddamn fast. Nice for some things, yes. Getting a message from my friend half way around the world just seconds after they send it, well, that IS nice. But for everything else, it sucks. Doing something well takes time. There’s no getting around it, no ‘life hacks’ to make it go faster. You want QUALITY? Then you gotta take the time. And there’s the problem: we’re inundated with shitty products that don’t stand the test of time. Think Justin Bieber’s “Baby” is still gonna be around and played in twenty years? Or Britney Spears? Do you really imagine the new batch of superhero films will be remembered as ground breaking cinema? No. None of that will stand the test of time. None of it will be remembered in five years, much less twenty. There’s books out there I forget the plot of just days after reading because they are so similar to a thousand other stories. There are films I’ve seen and completely forgotten about until they come on again and get 15 minutes into the plot and then I say ‘oh! I’ve seen this’. And music? Well, there’s a good reason some comedians sing medleys of pop songs – because they’re all based on the same 3 chords and you can sing every single one of them over a repeating phrase. Yes, it’s funny and I laugh my ass off. And yes, it’s tragic because it shows how LOW we’ve all sunk.

Sometimes I think we’re on the brink of cultural collapse. Rome is going down in flames. We stand on the edge of a new Dark Ages, where might is the only right and knowledge is a thing that takes too long to pursue. Standards are dropping, and dropping fast. I think the film ‘Jackass 2.5’ is proof of that. When did the idiots take control? And why do we keep voting them into office? Disparity in income is matched by disparity in general knowledge. We are all fools on a fool’s errand.

*sigh* I guess I AM grumpy this morning…Excuse me, I’m happiness challenged. Anyone else?