“Architeuthis:
What is wanted and needed of you right now is that you get up off your ass and go write. I know you don’t feel like it.
The world cannot wait for you to feel like it.
Who you are is a writer.
Go be who you are.”
— Daniel Maté
I miss my eight arms. I miss my tentacles. I miss my sub-spherical suction cups. I miss my chromatophores. I want to be as large as a freighter, as large as an island. I want to engulf and sink any ship that comes my way, not lie stranded on the shore.
Everyone is having babies. Everyone. Or kittens, which seems to be the young NY artsy set’s version of having babies. I am having coffee.
1. Write a song for Andy Warhol.
2. Finish the damn libretto
3. Drink an obscene amount of coffee.
“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.” — Louis L’Amour
I could sleep here…