1004 It’s Friday and I want to flight sim (flight sim/simming is the act of using flight simulation software on one’s computer to simulate any phases of flying an aircraft.) instead of writing. Why? Because I don’t believe that I’ll ever get paid to write anything. And because of that belief it doesn’t matter what I do any day of the week. So this should be very freeing in the fact that I can do anything I want any day of the week as long as I don’t have to spend money on it. I told my wife happy valentine’s day.
1049 What could I write right now?
Grab a story prompt and go from there.
Write about me being alone for four nights while my wife is gone.
Write about my relationship with my dad. (Do I really want to do this? I don’t think so.)
Write some poetry.
I’m thinking the reason I don’t really WORK at writing is because I don’t want to be a writer. I really want to be an abstract expressionist painter. I just can’t do that now because I don’t have any money. I’m writing because I don’t have any money and it’s very inexpensive to do. Yes, I always want more writing books, but I checked my Kindle this morning and I have tons of books on how to write and a few in physical form on my bookcase. My wife supports me, she’s the one with the 9 to 5 office job so I can write anything I want all day long. Maybe I need to keep reading until I figure out what I want to write about.
1120 I need to be a better person. Don’t get angry about anyone. Quit stewing and fussing about how it didn’t go my way. Be more attentive in conversations unless they are about politics then you can ignore those. Politics does nothing but waste your time unless of course you’re trying to run for office and/or you work in politics then pay attention because that’s your job. Incline to lean toward peace.
I look at the clock and 1130 is approaching and then noon is next and that’s when I get my groceries from Walmart is being delivered. I’m excited because I have goodies coming. I like eating goodies.
1141 Maybe I’m not a writer. I find myself always tired and draggy. I’m probably eating to much sugar. I was awake again last night from 0200-0430 until I was able to fall asleep until I awoke at 0707. I’m glad I was able to get the extra sleep but as I type I drift off as my head nods down.
1336 I know I need conflict in my stories. I need to read books where conflict is not violent. All I can ever think of when it comes to conflict are vehicle accidents and I hate it! Maybe, the reason why I hate it so much is because it’s a constant fear of mine. I’m tired, so tired of always being afraid. I remember being afraid when I was little and I thought I would just wake up one day, older and over it. One morning I got out of bed and at the time I was in my young thirties and I realized then I’m still afraid of stuff. I’m afraid of the dark. I need to visit a shrink and talk it over. I would, but I don’t want to take the money, money that should be going into my savings and spending it talking to a shrink.
1413 I’m pretty sure I have the world’s most unusual weird job. I listen for alien communications. I’m not making this up. There is an undisclosed location far removed from any trace of humanity. A lone 1000 sq. ft. building with a flat black roof with five large satellites and if that isn’t enough another eight satellites that sit on 100′ towers surrounds the grounds. They do have open elevators in the middle of the A-frame that goes to a tiny railed off platform at the top in case I would need to go out there to fix anything. Let me tell you it’s a bit creepy at 3 a.m. I wish there would be two of us stationed together but that would cost the company to much money. They can only afford one of us. The day job is bad enough but at night, especially when the moon is less than a quarter sliver, it’s a bit unnerving to say the least.
One night after being on the job for only 3 days or in this case nights. I about had a heart attack when I heard a racket like non other. It appeared to be coming from the roof. I grabbed our rubber pellet shotgun and headed for the stairs only to find two of my coworkers banging on trashcans and the door. When they saw the look on my face, they doubled over slapping themselves silly. I thought they were going to pass out due to the uncontrollable fit of laughter. I let them know they almost got their butts full of rubber pellets. I was tempted to shoot them anyway but I didn’t want to get fired, so I let it go.
(notes: we have an infrared drone that sits on the roof, ready to fly at a moment’s notice in case we need “eyes” when were to scared to go out there ourselves.)
I remember now what I’ve been wanting to write: a pick your option/paragraph solo adventure! Now, that’s exciting. Another thing I could write about is for RPG’s. I could write my own no magic fantasy RPG. Nothing where you would have to first “clean up” – it would be family fun out of the box!