Sleepy Sunday
Sunday, February 25th, 2024 02:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoozefestaudio |
It's 60F out there today.
My next door neighbors are having a cook-out.
Prowly followed Yvette & I on the walk, but disappeared halfway through it.
Not much going on. I'm sitting out here with the space heater off, drinking my coffee.
I need to shave my head today, and wash the dishes.
It's nice now that I've vacuumed downstairs.
I need to do that more often.
I did shave my head today, and cleaned up that mess, but did not do the dishes.
After a beer run, and a dog walk, I talked to Colleen for a few hours, and then got ready for the week to come.
Laundry is in the washer now, and I'm exporting the finished, Wig Cuty video.
I'm not gonna have the money for another video for a while.
Wig City cost me $60.00, which... really is a LOT for a video that will ultimately get 15 views.
I've proved I can make good storyboard videos for my old songs using AI, but... I can only afford to do one a month right now.
So realistically, it could be a few years before the three remaining old albums are all on YouTube.
I dunno.
Wig City the song was written in 1995, but not recorded like this until 2001.
It's about the contemplation of suicide... which I think is a lot more common than actual suicide.
Wig City, is, Heaven, more or less... depicted in the video as a fantastical 1970s disco city where everything is dancing, cookies, and ice cream cones.
The music of the song is not disco, of course, but it was inspired by the disco I heard on the radio as a kid.
It's an examination of what it would really entail, to kill myself and get to this place... which, by the end, I decide isn't worth the effort... clearly... because I'm here writing this journal entry, some 30 years later.
It was around writing this song that I settled into the position I still hold, that while I do believe in an afterlife... it can't be as simple as killing yourself and everything is ice cream and cookies forever.
There's got to be some catch, that means the longer you can suffer through your shitty life on Earth, the better off you'll be up there... and in subsequent lives... which are probably also inevitable... as we can only handle so much dancing, and so many free ice cream cones.
Jack of Spades takes over in the morning.
This coming week will be about paying bills and getting safely into March.
It'll also be about consulting with the lawyer and coming up with a longer term plan to keep the house and survive here... if possible.
I'll be dealing with ComEd, who were down all last week.
I'll be coming to terms with, "prodigal Snoop," out there, stubbornly refusing to come home.
And I'll be thinking more about the equinox... and another smudge ritual... though that's a month out... on the weekend of, SAT MAR 23 & 24.
But the downstairs is vaccumed, and I've shaved my head this weekend, so I'm going into it feeling a lot less messy... which has to count for something.
°¦}
