Yesterday I wrote a page in my notebook that I thought about putting to the blog. I wrote it while out for a walk at Seaside, one of my favorite beaches. It was done in a more observational, reflective tone with lots of pause and space in between. Also I think it’s relevant to add that the tone [or lens of perception] I wrote in was “sad & depressing.”
July 28, 2019
6:08pm: I found the perfect little secluded place to watch the ocean.
Someone has done some good work here – it reminds me of Tom Cruise’s cabin in Oblivion.
Pretty little fat bumblebee wandering on the bush.
I don’t want to go back to Portland.
I wanted to write: “How the fuck am I supposed to write without coffee, cigarettes, and alcohol?”
Not that I ever wanted to be a writer. I’m not quite sure how I fell into doing it, but it does seem like he became quite reliant on those written words.
So much of the journey, and guidance from spirit still seems to indicate that it should be easy and that I keep fucking up.
I really like this spot.