im going to try my best to get my surrounding thoughts, ideas, and memories of the past day into words. How do people do such things so efficiently? I dont remember if i was once able to… i think so.

Well i just wanted to talk a little bit about a rabbit hole I have been going down recently. This rabbit hole i would stay stems from Bobs News and Books in Florida. That will be one of the first places i go when i get back to florida. It is an old school bookstore and newstand. I imagine once, that many similar stores used to be. Specific stores like this, where seedy and fringe characters would hang out and converse. Where regulars would go for their news each day and to get cheap cigars and lottery. I dont know… Anyway, that does interest me but that is not neccesarily what led me down the rabbit hole. What led me down the rabbit hole is the specific books i bought there. Old military manuals and survival books i bought there, originating from loompanics, delta press, paladin press, desert publications, those such. And since yesterday, i have been on a deep dive of these publications. It is amazing the world that once was. The america that once was. I hope i can find it again but i am not sure where to look. Where ones desires are so pure. Not pure as in holy, but without distraction. Pure as in dedicated. I wonder the bookshops that used to exist and the type of people that used to buy from such publications. Perhaps there is a cabin in the woods where there are four men sitting around a table smoking cigarettes and playing cards, guns on the wall. Perhaps they are planning dark deeds. Or perhaps they are just hitting the bottle and cursing the government. I am not sure. Who knows what lies out west. What lies in the country. I will try to see. I need to save much money so i can spend an indefenite amount of time on the road in search. In pure search with no distraction. No cellular. Perhaps a flip. Extensive research and planning before. Staying in motels writing and singing the blues.

Maybe i should get a job doing some sort of writing… Maybe these are the types of things i should be writing in a journal and not on a blog, but i dont know. Here i am saying that i would like to get a job writing, while showcasing my writing… anyway… I dont know, i dont enjoy it that much.. but i do a little.. Its just that, how else can i find a way to keep employment while living ina motel in the nevada deserts, or in some apartment at the edge of staten island. Im not sure. I was looking at a masters program at a university in newfoundland. It is for folklore… that sounds interesting… And Newfoundland my god does that place sound interesting. But i dont know. I like to photograph and write.. kind of. but maybe not. But i also want to do real work. Like work on a railroad or as a plumber, an electritian even. I want to have a trade.. i suppose writing is a trade, but im not at the level of a trade… I like to fish. Im not sure what i will do. Maybe i will just work short stints anywhere i go of any job i can get. Or maybe my home base will be south florida but i will save up money from there and go live in places for stints… Oh yea, i also do love to make music.. But love actualy, im not sure if that truly applies to any of this.. im not sure what i will do. I need to get into a pure routine. One where i dont waste my time here on the internet. Im not sure if i need to stay off it all together, but there certainly needs to be a limit. I want to live in a house, an apartment. I want to write each day, make music each day, read each day, eatch movies, draw, listen to recorsds, but pure. I think i shouldnt spend my time wastefully consuming. Now, theres nothing wrong with consuming. But you should think about what and how you are consuming, thats all. I love to fish. I truly love south florida. Maybe a place for me is to live at the edge of the everglades/big cypress, but not quite out of civilization… i dont know. We shall see.

I am not sure what is next for me. A few months ago at this point, i had wrote down some of my psychotic symptoms…. Mainly severe dissociation and the sense of doom… I don’t really remember. Well, that went away for a period of time. It seems it has returned. It seems things are much worse than before. Even with proper sleep, even with a low heartbeat, and now in fine physical health, i just dont feel human. I dont know if it is psychosis… I will tell my symptoms.

Of course for the last 2 years i have been dealing with intrusive and ruminating thoughts.. That of course has not gone away, if anything it has only gotten worse during this period of time.. And when it all comes down to it, that is probably the root cause behind this madness. At least what lays in those thoughts… Regardless, i just name that as a symptom. I also feel a numb dissociation, and a distanglement from linearity. As a movie almost, it seems as i just move between scenes… or more so that i just appear out of a scene. Like i am stepping from one scene to the next.. I dont want to exagerate and embelish the story as that will do myself no good. So let me think carefully. But i just have a hard time making sense of things. Of my thoughts, sort of… but that is nothing new. Everything kind of just feels like a blur. Of course the most debilitating symptom of this all is the panic and sense of doom i feel. The constant paranoia and feeling of anxiety. Everything seems to scare me. Im not sure what to do. Of course, i do know my surroundings. i know my name. I am not sure what the issue is.

I am listening to direct line 2 by dean blunt. It is a great song. He always used to put out of key instruments over his samples. They never sounded very good but it was nice that he did that. I am sitting in my dorm in prague. I will be leaving soon. Just a few days over a month and i will be gone. But right now i have decided it would be a good time to talk about my time in Morocco, as it appears i have not done so. When i was in the woods in minnesota i wrote every night in my diary. And after that too, there was a time period i wrote often. When i first came to prague even, but unfortunately that did not last. I should have during my time in morocco, but well… i suppose that did not happen.

I arrived in casablanca. First at the airport of course and then by train into the city. Once i had stepped off of the plane i felt uneasy. I cant pin point the exact reason, but perhaps seeing all the muslims had something to do with it. I have nothing against muslims. I dont think they are bad people and based on my trip, quite the contrary. But i cant help myself if i felt a certain way. But arriving into the city was quite surreal to me. Perhaps the european mind would not think anything about it, perhaps not the Moroccan either. Perhaps both do. But it felt like a decayed and weathered… well i dont know how to finish that description, perhaps a decayed and weathered empire, but it certainly wasnt that. there was no empire of casablanca. but there was a granduer that i felt and could see. but under many layers. Still, it was quite romantic. I mean, unlike in tangier or fez where one would be most capitvated by the old casbah, casablanca was the opposite. To me, what stood out the most was not the old center built milenia ago but the majority of the city, built just 200 or so years ago. It was very special. As with europe, they certainly have these buildings. Ones from all the different eras from medievel times up until present. Casablanca had all of this. But with sucha  distinct character. All of these different architecural eras and movements, but built precisely for casablanca in the character of morocco. And stacked on top of eacthoer. As i said, decayed. It was really quite an image. And the energy of the city too was like nothing i had ever seen. So chaotic. But real chaos. It was nothing like the chaos of new york which at this time, well it doesnt feel like true chaos… I wish i could explain it better. I will put pictures. But i loved walking through all the streets seeing the different buildings and how everything was truly being used. There were several cafes on all the streets, filled with old men congregating to watch the futbol games, smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee, greeting with hugs and kisses, it was indeed a wonderful thing to see. It truly felt as if the city was alive. There was no facade. It was just people working and then pleasure.

This was a place that i wish i could have lived. I suppose i could. I would have to learn either french or arabic. And the ocean, of course that is all that is needed to survive. I met a nice man who showed me around the city. But there is no need to speak of that.

So i suppose this is the website. I am not too sure what i will do on here. Maybe i will write about my life. Maybe i will write about certain topics i am interested. Maybe i will write stories. Those sound like some good ideas. Of course this is not a personal diary though… i must remember that. This might also be a good place to share my music. It can be my own personal website. Bye bye.

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