He was CRYIN' MAN!!

Why is it my shoulders are tense as well as the back of my neck? In addition to which, my jaw is stiff and tight against my upper row of teeth?
Trying to stretch, open wide my jaw. Every time it is I notice my shoulders are tense, I flex and reposition them. I cannot afford to get stay or be dizzy or pinch my sciatic nerve or any thing.
Here I am. Reading the latest Vanity Fair (OCT. 09), and wanting desperately NOT to be hungry as I am or tired as I am or to be reading/writing under this heinous flickery-buzzy fluorescent light, we have shining over my right shoulder.
Just finishing up my last glass of Sake. Some terrible shit out of Sacramento from the inside of a really cool dimpled green highball drink container from Cost Plus, that was made in Mexico. I bought the Sake from there as well as a 5" super sharp serrated blade OXO rubber grip handled Utility Knife. Didn't "need" any of these items, but so what? I have them now and like always, we'll make the best of things.
That's one of my strong points even when facing a weak one of "buying" things all seemingly at random. It's all so "random" but it's where my freedom/creativity resides; the being free to indulge in the impulse that's errant. Best deal in the world for "happiness" as it were.
Read these magazines of people doing things, and hatred towards them arises. I'm trying to avoid or stop that. I'm busy. I'm a person. I do that, so what? What I need to do is just move on, what and wherever it is; whatever's to be done. It doesn't matter. It needs to be done. Do it. Be done with it. Move on.
If there's any thing I need to improve upon, it's being realistic for what is and to keep on trying despite all odds, most of which at this late date just seem to be negative thought patterns of self critical harangues. And where they're from is any one's guess. One thing's for sure: They must stop once and for all. I really must do this: Believe in my self, and create good works of art for to support my self, now and for the rest of my time here, 'all along the way.'
Delivered via Crackberry Niagra 9630

     I have this idiotic  stupid post number that is not accepted. I'm wondering, what  the hell? I have what to know or to memorize to get what I want from this damn thing? 
     Wanted TARO with Mochi and Coconut shavings. "You're making me hungry" Kim, the proprietor said. Is that all I'm...I'm not making you any...Ah, what the hell? Life is too damn stupid.



         ----William McKenzie Neal

It in retrospect was easy peasy. Now I wish I was inside a movie house in Huntington Center (nee Bella Terra) and watching G.I. JOE, or Inglorious Basterds, with some beer and raw fish in my belly from the Kabuki restaurant next door.
But of course the need to be at home safe and sound...and now for some reason to be drinking some iced Sake...I'm here writing on this tiny one letter at a time keyboard...
At first was nervous as can be, and at each day's beginning, skittish too. However, it all worked out. Each day and the whole week. I had and got no complaints. Tomorrow there's a beach party up the street. I'll do that in the dead end of day. I have laundry and shopping to get done first, unless I'm needed to go to the beach first and secure a fire-pit, then of course I'll come running. I have given the principals for setting this thing up my phone number. It's been hinted the house here will be utilized as the after party place, but No Can Do. I'm NOT hosting that shit. Place here's a mess: Dirty, Disorganized, and I'll NOT be hauled off to jail for contributing to the delinquency of ANY minors. My neighbors don't like me anyway, what with my screaming and yelling at all hours.
Delivered via Crackberry Niagra 9630

This week wasn't a doosy or anything but maybe it was. I had a lot of shifts at one particular location none of us like very much. I did better at keeping cool there I think than I did at one I do. Sad thing that. Happy I've polished through a lot of Manga & Manwha books. Want more. Haven't written any thing but these journals & posts on Twitter and Facebook. Tired now. Pool looks and works real well. Teal in color. No more dark forest/British Racing Green. Lots of bleach $ and grief later...some new parts too.
Time to hang up the peepers for a spell. Maybe I can get friendly w/my gal pals tomorrow. Mom is out of town by Sunday, have to spend some time with. Will not see her for 2 weeks. Off to the U.K. I'll get maybe 1 weekend alone. One realizes many are needed to write. What must I do to secure this, suffer? Don't know that I can. The devil that you know bit.
Reading a lot I guess, but it never seems to get done. Have been flaking on the Mexico in October booking. Don't know why. Sad.

The day wasn't as fun as yesterday, but coming home sure is more peaceful. Dead quiet. Not a soul around. I wonder how I'd get by here on my own.
Fixin ta go ter Mexico, I guess. Step mum suggested I try to fly into Puerto, and catch one of those hrly's to Guadalajara, from there. Hmm, interesting, but wouldn't my day be long? Longer? I really don't like to fly. But, if I could find a Jet Blue out of Long Beach...

I'll be able to write from the mobile and it'll take.

I cannot believe that it's not working...am I losing my mind? The thing delivers, but, it doesn't go to the site. I have this email sent, but where is the Live Journal posting? I still have June 19th's entry...and it seems all of these emails just keep going to Tumblr's blog spot...what the hell? Must be mad. Really must balance my checkbook. Have pages and pages of receipts and the bank of course says I have 700 dollars which is RIDICULOUS. I'm lucky if I have 150!!! And, the kicker, I have over 750 worth of BILLS this month!!!
---William.

Occupied tonight with this thing called GAME 7 OF THE STANLEY CUP FINALS.

     And it's the Pittsburgh Penguins I've wanted to see the WHOLE series. Intense hard-hitting HOCKEY!!
All the "money" I've "spent" and had "worried" that had "devastated" me, did not. My simple wish/desire to have the fun for next weekend, I think will indeed "occur". Life, should NEVER be so damn retarded as it were. It must NEVER be so untenable. I must ALWAYS be "in charge" as it were.

     David Carradine is reported to have HUNG himself in Singapore. SUICIDE. Take that. AND, take this: The Pittsburgh Penguins have won game 4 of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. 4 to 2. If they don't WIN game 5 in DETROIT, I think they will be DOOOOOOOOMED!!!

MY NOVELLA

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/rats-with-wings/7215365

Is available here...funny, this is the only blog that has the goddamn link working...tumblr fucked it up, blogger fucked it up, and here on this hard to get into but once in it works and the text is bullshit, it has a hyperlink, and it works...buy my novella, goddamnit!!


DO IT NOW!!!!

---WILLIAM MCKENZIE NEAL

The PIRATES won one big. I mean it. Great foot long hot dog, better far in taste meat composition and bread than that of the "dodger" thing in Elysian Park. Much more so.
 Many more beer choices. So many and not so damn expensive. I had a hot dog and okay fries (the combo) at a resting place for 8.50 I think it was and for 2 beers I spent 15.00! Tax? Well, whatever. I wasn't about to go for that pizza. Never any good at a ball park. I don't care who you are. For the short dog my bird of choice is Nathans. There's a fast food place near by the hill we're on and it's actually an ice cream spot, but it houses Nathan's Hot Dogs too. I get them from the Cinemark company whenever I choose to visit Century theatres, because though it started out more expensive, is less than the Regal near my house. How that came to be I'll never know. Mattinee...what have you. Less at the Century...better, because the place is new and clean and that rat packer of a Chain of Memphis, Tennessee, is just un-christian how they charge...what they don't take care of...and who goes there. Ah, what a jab. I think the owner is a professed one (A believer in "gawwwwd-duh".) and has a lot of causes and points but whatever.
 When you own a place, you can do that. Take this for example:

   HOW DID WE GET HERE
WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO
WHERE ARE WE GOING
HOW DO WE KNOW WHEN WE GET THERE

    This is a sign on a property owned by Akenheil Engineers, of Pittsburgh, PA., at 1000 Banksville Road, cross street Banksville Ave.
See, you can do this when you own property. That is the way that it is. Not bothering a soul except this curious writer who wants to know how and why all this is going on and why the hell the vegetation is being allowed to grow up over the sign that old man (He's 90 years old now.) Akenheil had placed near by his Akenheil Engineering firm. Effectively blocking his "message" to the world that passes by on Banksville on the way into the tunnel that takes you to down town proper or opposite, to the west to Mt. Lebanon, etc.

Questions Questions Questions. I don't know answers.

   Maybe none of us truly do...we just make stuff up as we go along.

Hey, look at this...You know, that, well...it's like this, isn't it? Here you have it like so...and every thing you all know is perfect and right; sane and safe. But of course then there's the other where it's all confusing and no one knows a damn thing...
But the real truth is it's always a mix of both these things...and it's not an either or kind of thing from time to time or at all times for all ways. It's just a mix and that's the thick of it...some times you think it's this some times you think it's that...and that, is about it.

     Is this entirely too big? I don't know. Don't consider it. May be. 
  Some days you like, some days you don't like. You love some and are filled with euphoria in them and others; throughout, you pretty much completely despise.
   Is this (any of it), absolutely correct and true? No? Isn't it more like: There are waves of moments, one into another, and by and by, the feelings change; melding and blending into each other like ice cream when it melts? Of course it is. For most of us, we don't even consider. We just move along and that's that; hardly even aware. And, if I sit in judgement here, I think: That's okay too. But not always. Not always. There are times when I scream in my car for others to be more aware, much more aware of what each of us is doing and what is going on and what comes about as of that. SLOW DOWN (expletive-expletive!!!)! COME ON, GET GOING! It all depends.
  Today has been an extremely lucky and feel good one that I've not had to have travail through too much bull excrement. I've felt fairly well through most of it. I have some more news on my taxes I can do and I know now I really must get my butt in gear to do that, and to get my transportation going for the Plane Tickets Back East and Back, for a visitation with my sister and her family. MUST! I'm glad I didn't spend all my money today, which I easily could have. I must see about what I really need to do and get into and out of that.
  I have not been reading today. I slept in but got up early too. I did not sit and read in a chair my book or books of books I need to be reading to get rid of the damn stacking pile of stuff I have. I also must negotiate whatever it is within me, to get into and out of what ever's next, which will allow me to remember and get into, and do the damn writing. Whatever it may be. Whatever it may be. Have a great "lucky" Friday the Thirteenth!!!

     I say, how many more of these damn service things do I have to go to and be on to stay connected be aware of in the space of aether, and get published once people start demanding I write something for them for money? HOW LONG? HOW MANY MORE?

     There was all this chatter and accumulated chaffe, utter nonsense and pitter-piddle-pat. Nothingness. It was nothingness and made no sense, absolutely. No one was understanding and even worse, no one, absolutely no one, asked questions as to what possibly was going on.
      No one cared. There was no reason to care. Nothing ventured. Nothing gained. No reason. No sense. Nothing. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. If only it could always be that way.
       One day I'll wake up and say that that episode was just that and that's all there is to it. Just a thing, a sad piddle of pus and that's all there was to it. So sad. Stupid. Why did it have to happen even? But, so what? It won't mean any thing, won't be able to illuminate any thing or help out in any way, any thing, so...so what? Some day, there will be quite a bit of distance between what happened and what is...and you'll be able to breathe much easier...
        I for one am going to get that nano whatever it is and grow better nose hairs or nasal cavities or sinus or some thing, so that I can sleep better and have a better off heart and in general, disposition in life...yeah, that's me. That's what's going to happen for me...if I live that long...that and better hearing/vision brain work...so that I can learn mathmatics or whatever else I need to learn, in short order, so that I won't have to waste much time like I have or am now...I am what I am...the molecules have made me...I sleep or whatever what I do and that's all there is to it...I get angry and cuss and work a bit here and there and nothing much more to it than that...I'd like more from this life...like to contribute and get more from that "creative" stand-point, but, it's just not happening, is it?

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 14^th, 2009

          FOR THE BENEFIT of Mr. Kite and every one else out in the land of no lovers and absolutely no sex unless it’s done on your own, I have this message: Fuck You Hallmark! That and Mother’s day in May and Lucky Charms day next month and Snakes on a Planet not our own day next year, all of it. Fuck You.

          Do your laundry. Get on line and search repository things because no one will be on line and bandwidth will be easily spread. There will be simple down load ease, because who could be on line? Every one will be texting, that’s done on the phone, right? Simple email to loved ones…ah, fuck, hang the sense of it, but don’t hang yourself in your own closet in Claremont, California. Where the hell was your wife all this time Foster? Dammit! What the hell? Tristan, fuck your parents for calling you that! Egolf…what did you find there in Oxford, Mississippi that didn’t save you? The fact your girlfriend was the reason you hooked up for a literary life? And Thompson, your gal pal was leaving? You old man you, how long had you been around? 67 years! That’s a long time. You had to have figured something out without love, eh? No one can make it, eh? No one? Damn, that sucks. That really sucks.

          Yeah, it’s winter and it bites, even here in happy-go-lucky Shell City, California, where I live. It’s COLD. 40 degrees. Must feed the cat. Must get out and get it done. Must get moving and have at it with my laundry and like that. Damn, what nuisance. What’s going to shave me? (A play on that, Midnight Oil song: Who’s Going To Save Me(?) or whatever song title Blue Skies, it may be. Too many songs with that title. I think of the blues tune. Blue Skies, smiling at me.) Peter Garrett, you giant, bald-headed, freak! Not enough going to save your homeland…it burned. And what’s with the planes of late? All fall down. Ashes To Ashes, All Fall Down.

          Picture this Deadheads: Ashes To Ashes: All Fall Down, and the TWO towers fall. No love there. What a long strange trip it’s been. But, at least I’m enjoying the ride(?) We will survive, we will get by. Keep Going! Keep Going!!!

         

     Rough night. Kept waking up...frustrated...hard to get air...or to relax to do so...not until the latter part of the morning...when, the sun about to rise, I relax and realize, the day beginning, I have to get up...Frozen breathing spaces filled with unknown pressurizing material which made breathing difficult at best. Yes, hardly any sleep was had. Uptight either before or during that, before deciding to go to bed in the first place...not wanting to...but not willing to stay up all night either...and...that...exacerbated that...not writing...doing nothing...just a script piece here/there notes...did some reading finished a book, bought comics sake and am going to drink and unwind.
     The force was below my peeps, on either side of my middle nose area, and the pressure was great enough to put my hearing which is from time to time sketchy, in a compressed mode. Didn't matter. Tinitus. Ringing in the ears, normal occurrence whenever I'm in quiet, so I'm either used to it, or insane because its' incessant drone never leaves me.
      This is rich text. Large. I don't enjoy it very much. I'd rather write on WORD and then transfer, but believe it or don't, this is quick, much faster than loading up that old cranky software. I wonder how bad/good/fast or whatever it'd be if I had the latest on my portable smart device, or got myself an ASUS notebook; AEeee (Some such drivel.), and charmed the world on the net with that. I wonder. I wonder. I wonder. It's all about getting a USB plug data storage plug. Yes, get a bunch of those portable memory storage devices, in various colors and styles...replace the disks and all. We don't need them any more.
     MUST read some more while there's available ambient light still present in my room. I can't stand the light at night and am in absolutely no mood by then, not after a long hard to get through day of interruptions...had one just now...door's closed, leave me the fuck a lone!!! Horrible thing. I can take it in the morning, the reading, and in fact, I really want to be productive then, reading...watching the day come up slowly...but I seldom ever get that chance...it's all about, do this do that, and what do you want to eat and I'm going to do this and that and...I really don't give a fuck. Do it already. Stop stopping me and my flow of the day I'm having here and let me be. Sad thing is, one day I will be alone, totally alone, completely, and then I'll want someone around...how completely freaking idiotic. How can I, how can life, absolutely be that stupid?
     Need to get some more comics. Rent the Sandman series. (#6 Is next.) Don't need to buy them. But do buy the other Ghost In The Machine...but do it online...much more affordable there. Part 2 or whatever they're calling it...it's not really an events happening right after thing, but it is with the same characters and setting and all. Great world that. So too: EDEN, which keeps getting pushed back...that and the Warren Hinckle WHO KILLED HUNTER THOMPSON book. Damn shame. I've ordered the Gonzo tapes. These CD's that, are recordings of Hunter S. Thompson back in the day, during the events he wrote about. I'm sure listening to them in my car, I'll have hours and hours of repetitive listenings...figuring out what's said and all...and in general, enjoying it. A book or two of his about him and all I must order...(The audio stuff is briefly sampled in the Soundtrack of the Alex Gibney film, music from, which I bought on Thursday evening, and am still listening to...).
     There's a bio coming...some dude...Hunter S. Thompson: An Insider's View...Jay Cowan...and Ancient Gonzo Wisdom, by Anita Thompson...Interviews that one is...And I must check out the Rolling Stone bit; Fear and Loathing at Rolling Stone: The Essential Hunter S. Thompson.
     I've got on order a book about a fellow and I think it's the one I'd checked out at Border's books a while back (Because there are several...the other one in my current notebook is mentioned near the front...and then on line I found one today by a gal named Barbara Glint or some such crap.) The book by Stewart: The Places In Between, by Rory Stewart, A former British Military fellow and Foreign Office man. Right. Spy!! But whatever...more like a dry Bear Grylls. And I think I'll learn something in the way of writing, writing some true life adventures, and turning them into fiction...I always do seem to do that when I read great nonfiction. Very inspirational...have to stay inspired...have to do any and every thing I can to keep it together, keep it real (no problem there) and keep it HERE!!! Stay here....no easy fast/hard/quick exits due to frustration and simply not wanting to deal with it any more...

     Five forty. It's dark. Still cannot find my favorite rainy-day sunglasses. Those polarized, mirror flash exterior, tortuga-framed lavender/pink contrast view for the wearer; perfect for a partly cloudy day or overcast millieu in my 57 degree winter rainstorm kind of weather. And I've no clue one for what's come undone with them. It's any ones' guess. I've kept them for years in a spot behind a crystal rock that has a lamp inside of it, on top of an aluminum flashlight "fog-cutter" reverse reflection spot beam, singling out a shine force that's unfortunately muted with a single hex screw in the center of the glass, in order that there be a single beam of light forced out, with little spill. Reason being, this aircraft metal job is for Firefighters, finding people and the source of the flame that started these inferno's. Reason being I found it convenient to have them there...did I set them down in a restaurant men's room? Did they leak out of my pocket one day? Is there a closet with my jacket in it and in a pocket deep down I forgot to check...my sunglasses wait to wear...today?
    I wake up to vacate my body of liquid/solid waste materials and wash my hands thoroughly before washing my face, brushing my hair (with wooden bristles-essentially massaging my scalp), putting on facial moisturizer via some incredibly expensive crap from Alba, which is to say it's not as expensive at the Oil Of Olay or the Origins that's also available...and then some cheap cologne, the Aqua Velva, original cheap-ass odor. Fun! I think I'll change my clothes now...my hair is long and must be cut...#5 blade cut, all over please...
     Thinking I might go back to sleep...I've just consumed what will be 2 of 9 or 15 full glasses of water or liquid in general today. I've got some juice to consume next...and I might just drop in some grapefruit seed extract, thanks to the folks of Nutribiotics of Lakeport, California, the only thing I've thanked them for...because the research I've tried to do regarding the lake there...the island in it, where the massacre of indians way back when, just can't be bothered. I wanted at the prompting of my friend Bob, to make a film about it...but so far, no go...and that's been decades...how much longer will we go on? 
      Should I try to go back to sleep? Get dressed and commence my T'ai Chi Ch'uan routine...meditate...(I'm guessing I'm going to have to teach my self...because I cannot afford and really do not want to pay any one $2,500.00 for a mantra, which I'd do if I had it and had the whatever to go to that TM center in the Fascist Iland shopping center adjacent where it's under my distinct impression to be, considering the address.)...meditate and re-read the last few pages I read yesterday, of the great Bio of David Lynch by Greg Olson (BEAUTIFUL DARK), despite all those correctly spelled "spellcheck" words, but inappropriately placed items...one can tell that is what the process was to proofread this book...it's all we have time for and can be forgiven I think in a bio such as this...it's funny, adds a few things to it...but, still, you read, and you read books if FICTION and they don't have those things because in this day an age still, most are or if they're old enough, have been proofed by readers taking the real pain of type setting, etc., and getting it right. I'm not saying I do it...I don't...I slap these entries together and I miss stuff all the time...I go through them several times some times and the software flubs stuff that I don't catch until it's POSTED...and I'm like, I know I didn't do that...but whatever...whatever, what-ever! The book is great for fans and scholars alike...and for anyone who's said: What did that film mean? Greg has the answer. It fills the gap, solves the mystery, and still does NOT detract from the great artistry that is the work by David Lynch.
     I don't know where to look any more...maybe some day I'll clean up around the night stand near my bed where said glasses have rested for eons, and one day find them on the floor covered in dust or in the closet in a jacket I've forgotten I'd worn back when and put the thing away so carelessly...but who knows, maybe something else will happen and that will reveal them too...I'm thinking now my jacket, the white "spare" jacket, that I keep in the trunk of my car, to keep in case I take off some place and suddenly need a jacket, well, voop! There it is...my jacket. Yes, that will be the ticket. It's probably there. Will let you know soon. Maybe in another posting...to explain that and many, many other things.

     OKAY, and so, there I was. On the stage. My storage place hallway. Fourth Floor. Westchester Branch of the Public Storage Place. And my stuff was being dragged out; carried out, hauled out, by me and my 2 new Armenian Friends. And I was going through it. I thought: Who Was This Guy? Thinking: Who IS this guy? 
      It was clear I was in a realm of out-of-space. In a place of surreal "stasis"; able at once; to be Viewing, and, Be VIEWED. I was doing what I was doing: Throwing away untold millions (in years), of psychic "stuff". Things that may/may not add/detract from my "creativity"....the tell-tale "touchstones" of a life "lived". AND tossing the utter "crap" of a human being in this "realm" called "life", that is the thing, that is LIVING, in "life" OUT! Needless to say I guess; it was "weird" to be finally doing it.
       I threw away props and prompts. I tossed nearly all of my clothes and things I used to "worship" and think "cool"; stuff that would, I had hope, at some later/future date, be able to use in my life...living...on my own. I usurped it a bit, in a way, but, prevailed, in the present, in that; I did in that, something that, might really ALLOW my "self", to "live", in the FUTURE. To: "save money", as it were, by not spending it on storing stuff I was not at present and had not been for so long, using...
       One of the things I said to myself as motivation to close my storage place was that; If you close the place, you can buy a "smart" phone. A PDA/phone/organizer thing....but, as I'm thinking about it, and have before getting anywhere "close" to "closing" my place of 17 years of storage of my "things", I considered; I'll probably pay about the same in storage place price, on a monthly online/phone access...different, but same. Maybe through this, I can stink up my "reputation" online, and make something out of myself, and promote like rabies a "presence" on line, and live. Really. Live. Something...like others seem to do...and art my life. I must art my life. I am an artist. There is nothing else for me. I cannot live like others. If not for my mom, my family, I would not be here today. I would not be able to make it on my own...and as I suspect, but am unable to make it play just yet; I'm going to need outside "help", to make it out there, in the world of: "suddenly, the public pays heed to you,"...and you are what you say you are, or what others tell you that you are: An Artist. A Writer. Whatever that is.
        For, right now. I think, I'm a LOSER...in addition to writer...a writer. Someone who writes...who thinks of things...a philosopher. I have to have a philosophy to write things, have a school of thought and all...like say: "I'll never be able to be one of the cool people who gets to have beautiful young women around and have sex with but not STD's and or Death with...Never Babies...never Marriage and all such as that." Nope. Not me. I'll never have that in my life, as much as I require, as much as I pine like a banshee screaming on the moors...I'll never have that. And, it's an unfortunate piece of shogdit I have that as my daily life...
     Sure, I live it pretty good. I get along and all. I go through my weeks and all...but I, like millions of others, hate myself, and my job, and want desperately to do something else, some thing more, and have it more "meaningful", but somehow, can't. Some how I'm unable to "move" on.

     Wherefore art thou, my sensible sense of things? Subtitle:

       I can't remember what the subtitle was...

WHAT is happening to me? Am I too scatter-brained to save my life? What in the world can I do? HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPP!!!!