Notes From a Dead End Writer

-wake up at 10:30 am after falling asleep at 4am

-meet a friend and get fronted for an 8th of good local weed

-meet a friend from out of town who is staying with me for a week

-promise her I can only have one beer…go to sold out concert with her (attempt to use fake credentials as a writer to gain entry

-happy it is sold out…my couch looks closer now…smoke a bowl…walk across the street to jazz night

-after 5 more beers I promise I am leaving after one more.

Next morning

-walk around my garden in the morning sun. it is 7:00am….pick the last of my tomatoes for the season

-ponder life and the hate I feel for the little I do conform

-smoke a cigarette

-debate a shower…ponder my empty pipe from the night before and smoke a bowl…get high…

-watch some fox news, CNN, and Jon Stewart show from previous night…laugh at the world’s insanity

-take a shower

-call in sick to work (the day job) and thankful I am free for the the rest of the weekend

-have an interview at 4pm…need a watch battery

-jump in the car and head out for a day of accomplishment and debauchery

-drive to work…pick up paycheck

-quickly ran inside…grab pay..looked into the eyes of no one and quickly rushed back to my car safe

-stressed about my interview with the fashionista at 4pm

-glad I have my reporter fedora on

-buy cigarettes, a new moleskin, Swiss watch battery, and a new shirt

-stressed I went over my budget. $29.99 Swiss battery for my TAG was beyond my means

-at least I can tell time—now it is 2pm…two hours before interview

-need beers before this interview…get haircut at Model Barber shop in west asheville

-U joint by 3pm for beers and research

-Research the fashionista and Asheville fashion scene

-get bored with fashion and research material for another article

-read some quotes by Hunter S Thompson, Hemingway, Charles Bukowski, and realize I am ready to take this interview by the balls.

-received email…the Fashionista with be 15 minutes late due to a “fitting issue”

-she was actually 30 minutes late

-spent couple more minutes watching videos on youtube for the companies she reps

-finished writing out interview questions

-checked digital recorder…working properly

-drank another beer quickly as I listened to Tchaikovsky on Pandora

-began writing a piece on Hunter S Thompson

-wrote down some notes and recorded some soundbites of myself for my “day in the life as a writer piece”

-read my girlfriends blog…still depressing and poetic as usual

-feel an impending doom for this interview and in general for this coming night and weekend that will follow

-will I be able to hold my shit together and look professional?

-3 beers in…probably not that professional…maybe just try to fool the fashionista for an hour

-better order a vodka redbull to help dull this self deprecating nonsense

-Fashionista shows up and immediately goes in PR mode

-glad I dressed nice…she was wearing casual wear and I looked somewhat fashionable

-she is very chatty

-I can’t stop staring at her eyes…I am glad my recorder is working because I cannot keep up with her while staring like a ignorant school boy

-her boyfriend shows up…I buy him a liquor drink and order one myself

-realized after I listened to interview I talked to much

-recorder ran out of battery (reminder: buy a new rechargeable battery)

-interview is over…went well…head to the bar for a drink with my servers who are now off work at 5pm

-waiting for a girl to show up and meet me at the bar

-wonder if I will survive this night

-girl shows up and then 30 minutes later my friend visiting from out of town shows up with her friend she knows in Asheville

-we get a table…discuss Anthropology, massage therapy, and the duality of man

-start ordering Vodka redbulls and PBR at the same time

-break a glass of liquor on myself and have to to do a hip thrust manuever in the bathroom to dry my jeans on the hand dryer.

-finished last round…said the goodbyes…and heading off into the night to meet a friend who will let me crash on her couch, and rescue me from myself if needed

-had another interview with a band at 8pm or 10pm after show

-arranged to stay at a friends house and sleep on her couch

-$8 cover at the door at Grey eagle for the show…walk in as if I belong and do not pay anything (the fear has not got me yet)

-it is now 10:30 pm….I missed my second interview

-have a couple beers and leave the second show and head to downtown asheville for bar hopping debauchery

-all rational and intellectual self survival thoughts have gone to sleep for the night and attempting not to fall in the gutter and die in my own vomit is now my mission statement

-Have now made it to the “Southern” downtown Asheville

-become excited I have a bowl packed in my pocket

-take a hard hit of my pipe/close it off/and try to not look too guilty

-get up…walk inside..and light an illegal inside cigarette and play a game of Ms. pac-man on the vintage machine near the back.

-Meet friends of the girl I am with…they hate me immediately, most likely because I mock one of the dumb chicks openly

-Working on keeping upright now

-Walk to Broadway for last call…it is now 1:25 am

-Private credit $4 to the atm to receive $20 bill

-Order 2 PBR and Jager shot…drink PBR in three gulps and take the shot…turn to hand my friend her PBR and she is gone

-Stumble around with beer goggles and start to freak out when I realize I am alone

-Begin to melt psychologically…call her…she is standing 3 feet from me

-“Get us a couple beers” she whispers in my ear…”done” my only response…it is now 2:05 am

-walk behind bar and snake 2 Heineken

-Attempt to listen to my friend talk to a random gay dude on the patio

-He says, “don’t let him stick his dirty penis in you”

-What an angry gay man…”I thought ‘gay’ meant happy” I whisper to my friend

-I was shocked….She had a gay super hero watching over her lady parts

-Laugh out loud at nothing…grab her hand and we begin the long godless walk up the hill to her car

-I still have not vomited..which I am shocked at…I look and smell of a brewery that has been flooded by the Distillery of Asheville

-New Mission statement for tonight—get to her house

-we arrive in North Asheville near UNC Asheville

-have a strange conversation with her apparently gay, abused neighbor…his boyfriend beats him regularly and he currently is attempting tp either get a restraining order, or flee to Tampa to live with his cousin

-say goodnight to the world

-Strip down to boxers and tshirt

-grab some ice water

-watch parts of the movie MOON and listen to some Sum 41

-begin to write notes and listen to my digital recorder while laying on the floor

-my friend gets ready for bed herself as I stumble inside after smoking a cigarette and finishing the last of the weed…it is now 4:30 am

-I flop down uncontrollably on her futon and debate yelling at her to come back out to make out with me..insanity ends quickly as I feared she may take me up on the offer and I would be required to perform…which I am sure Whiskey Dick would be the only thing arising to the occasion

-Physically, emotionally, mentally, psychologically fried and require sleep soon….it is now 5:15am

-close my eyes and sleep

Depravity is the only remaining freedom besides moral corruption. I live in a devoured city of sin…alcohol, tattoos, drugs, and meaningless sex. I wake up knowing I accomplished something, but I was yet unsure of what that could be. I didn’t make my wage for the day, as I called out sick to prepare for my two interviews, one of which I missed.

I sit back the next night after spending a hangover hiking in the mountains and viewing waterfalls while drinking a vodka/grapefruit. I leave the redbull and craziness behind for the night as I take a twisted story from yesterday and attempt to define what went right so I can repeat it again tomorrow.

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