Drunk and Thoughts
I got back from work round 4:30 am yesterday, not tired and I’d gotten myself excited. Really it came out of nowhere I’d been real down and bummed at work and then out of nowhere and I can’t point to any event that could have caused this but my mood swung wildly in the other direction. So by the time we closed the store I was wired and didn’t want to sleep so I decided to get shitfaced. I plugged my laptop to the speakers and blasted The Fratellis and pounded beers and watched the sun rise. I also read a bunch and thought lots and came to many understandings like why we drink, because alcohol suppresses reason, it shrouds the ego and let’s the universe flow easy through your thoughts. Why did Kerouac Benzedrine and liquor while he wrote? to follow the flow. Suppress the Individual to follow the Universal. Anyhows, I’d figured it fun to just throw the beer cans everywhere so that by the time my roommate got back to the apartment around ten the place was trashed and so was I. When I woke up 6:30 because I had work again in a little while I had a pounding headache and a desperate hunger feeling so empty like I hadn’t eaten in days. I walked to the corner mart and spent 10 bucks on drinks but didn’t buy any food, I had calzones left over from work. So I ate one of those. I didn’t sit well. I felt more miserable than before eating and my stomach was upset but I decided to sleep it off. I woke up again 30 minutes before work still feeling absolute crap miserable, my stomaching knotting and turned over. I thought sitting on the toilet would help but I didn’t have to shit and that was a waste of time. Next I jerked off thinking that’d make me feel a bit better, really tugging at it standing in the middle of the floor making a giant mess and it helped a bit but my stomach was still tangled uneasy. So I drank some water but that didn’t help either. I was supposed to be at work 5 minutes ago. To hell with it, I thought, I really need to feel better so I cleared my head and let it flood with filthy thoughts of dirty toilet bowls and puke smelling on my shirt and I ran out the side door of the apartment hands on knees puking another mess of fluids. People on the sidewalk watched funny. Felt a shit load better after that, brushed my teeth and washed up and got to work 30 mins late but they didn’t care anyway.
I read Kerouac’s Essentials of Spontaneous Prose and Belief & Technique For Modern Prose and decided to write every memory I can think of, using them to practice spontaneous prose and making stories out of them. Also, the thing I’m looking for is how to put your Individual into spontaneous prose because as far I can understand it it’s only the Universal that’s writing through you. I thought that maybe you can do this by creating the story first, in your mind and instead of living through it, which is still writing through memory. But if you create the story and let the Universal write it, maybe that’s the answer.