I don't want to write this so I'll just complain

So this is supposed to be one of those 'non-fiction, non-journal' pieces, but what do I even write about that I haven't said already. There's only so many things happening every day and I document every word of it. I've complained about not being on top of my reading, meditation, and waking up game. I've complained about how I've not been cooking much. Work stuff is often mentioned. And so are my opinions on every topic, interesting to mundane. Every tv show I'm watching I write about here. Even the situation of my digestion comes up not uncommonly.

I've written about the crazy walking I do now -- walked two hours today and that's not uncommon for me -- I've written about motivation at work issues. I write about the hangouts happening in our house, and I write about the things I write.

I used to write about my philosophical musings. Haven't had a whole lot of new ones recently. The original ones are interesting to think about, not something you've seen youtube videos on. They're hard to come by.

I don't read much, haven't read anything new in a while. NO reviews, no inspirations.

Politics is becoming a serious concern, enough complaints here already, and other yammering you don't want to know.

I want to write screenplays, and farce, and so many novels. That's common knowledge, discussed here to death.

If I wanted to write, really write, forcing myself to write this wouldn't be hard. I'm tired today. The tacos have messed up my stomach, I'm pissed I'm not writing in the mornings, and still doing the minimum number of posts.

New Zealand is still the aim, but now I want to be doing the job I'm at at least part-time, at a different place if need be. Need the monies and the organization in my life. Without structure I'm a puddle of sadness desperation and hopelessness.

Watching Dan Levy's interview, the GQ one, on youtube on the side. It's pretty great.

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