St. Jude’s Food Bank Garden, June 1, 2009
I am sorry to have been away for so long, Left Coasters, but I got ill a number of days ago, I’m afraid, and I have been in a contemplative space ever since.
Almost every day I make it out to St. Jude’s to do something at the garden—four weeks into the seeds I can finally say that the beginning is over. I learned some watering symbology wrong for the valves and got horribly confused, even more than usual, ‘n I got blocked on spending the last $150 for bean poles and tomato cages, Jesus, am I made of cash? But those two issues were finally resolved and even I’m starting to feel pleased with the food bank garden start, some predictable problems weaved themselves into the beginning but all in all not a bad start.
I have been advised recently not to be a political writer anymore, the inputs are to consistently negative and combative. I’ve also been told to stop all fiduciary obligations of duty I feel are necessary for the netroots, it’s time for singular personal focus. As usual I plan to ignore these dictums of detachment, they’re far too selfish for my personal frame of reference, but the issue is very deserving of spacing or contemplation, take your pick, and I plan much more of it soon for this un-finished mental evolution.
I have also told far too much of my personal story in this pinch-hitting blogging meander of mine over the years, that much is very true. At least if I stopped blogging my business wouldn’t be in the ether forever, god.
Just to continue the manifestly foolish tradition, what the hell, something happened last year just before Thanksgiving that threw me for a horrible loop, I’ve worked pretty hard to get through it but many days I’m simply stalled, old stuff I handle poorly that renders me useless for blogging. I’m getting excellent help and I have worked hard to change this year, right, but there’s be zero improvement on this track for over six months now. If I stop blogging that really will be why, I can’t fix this stuff from the past I never expected to encounter in the ether again.
Not by myself, anyways. If I don’t show up for another three weeks or three years there’s no need to worry, I’m just working on stuff that requires total mental privacy. Maybe I’ll be gone for three days or three hours, fuck I dunno. I say that a lot these days: I don’t know. Not exactly the authoritative voice for blogging, is it?
Still no cigarettes, 45 days, I feel like a god damn Puritan, I never do anything anymore. Just like President Obama, I’m serious, work out six days a week, Sundays off, I’m due for a lift after this with one double-day thrown in this week.
Do the best you can. Try and live with stuff I’ll never be able handle well. Hope some day things change. Do I sound like some semi-pathetic simpleton? Likely. It’s where I am, it’s why I’m so quiet, why I should be in the future. I’ve got a drama queen streak, sure, but I know the truth, too. We shall see what happens.