If you want to increase your success rate, double your failure rate.

Saturday, July 26, 2014

The Prick Inside of Us.

I awoke at a predetermined time.  It wasn't my idea.  I didn't want to be awake.  My body has grown accustomed to waking at a certain hour and it does that, day in and day out, regardless of how many hours it has rested.  Unfortunately, this exact time, horrible as it may seem to some, is 4:30 am.

It doesn't matter how many beers it has ingested or how much work was done the day prior nor does it care if it is sick with a cold or flu.  It does what it has been trained to do.  So now I am awake.

The first thing I notice is a slight headache.  Too many beers?  Perhaps.  I lay in bed staring at the ceiling or where the ceiling should be.  It is dark afterall.  I count them backwards, the beers that is.  One beer when I came in the house because it started to sprinkle outside.  A beer before that while sitting at the campfire, well...I did sit at the fire for some time so I'll group that count, let's see...1,2,3,4.  Yeah I think it was 4.  Oh and don't forget the almost foot long cigar.  So that makes 5 beers so far.

"Is that all?" I wonder and the voice in my head magically appears as he always does when things have skewed beyond normality.

"No, remember you had one while filling up the wood bin next to the fire pit before lighting the fire?"

"Yep, your right, six it is."

"Didn't you have one right after you finished mowing the lawn too?"

I'm starting to think this was a bad idea, this counting of beers.  My mouth has a bitter taste to go along with the traditional morning after cotton mouth.  I roll my tongue around attempting to create some sort of moisture.  Nothing.

"Oh, hey, you still there?"  I probably shouldn't have started this conversation.

"Yes, aren't you done yet?", I answer him...myself...it.

He chuckles and the throb in my head quickens as my pulse rises.  This prick doesn't know when to quit. Then I laugh because he is a direct reflection of me.

"You forgot about the one you had while you were checking the oil and gassing up the mower.  Remember?  It was the one you stuck in the freezer as soon as you got home from work?"

I close my eyes, I can't tell if they're closed.  I open them again and try and discern any difference between the two blacks.  Yep, there is a slight difference.  One of the blacks has a bit of green in it.  Must be the numbers on the alarm clock.

I hear the dogs getting restless on the floor.  I slide my hand over until it slips off the edge of the bed and immediately a wet nose and a warm muzzle greet it.  I scratch it behind the ears and listen to the groan of pleasure as I wiggle my finger behind his ear.  He likes that!

I slide out of bed.  As I stand the slight headache begins to fade.

The clock is now showing 5:30.  I have managed to lay in bed counting beers and thinking about random stuff for an hour now.  Time to get up.  I want to see the sunrise and I like to have my coffee out on the deck so I can watch the birds.

"Hey dumb, dumb."  He's back.  I thought standing up would make him lay down but I guess I was wrong.

"What now?" I bark at him.

"You forgot the one while you were watering the garden."  He laughs, loud and a bit out of control.  Almost like he's forcing it.  I can tell it is his last hurrah for now.

"If you don't shut up I'm gonna drown you in a couple more later on, now go back to sleep you annoying little cuss."

With that he disappears back into the chasms of my mind.  I don't really know where he goes but for now he is gone.  Most people I know have a voice in their head too.  It tells them right from wrong and for the most part discourages the wrong.
Not Mine!  He waits until I have already done it and then comes out of his hidey hole and laughs his ass off at me.  Prick!

I think a lot.  I think I may think more than most people think.  I think sometimes that drives me nuts.
I know what you're thinking but the thinking that I'm doing is not just the 'I think I'll have another' type of thinking.  It's the deep thinking.  The what ifs and the could it be type of thinking.  I think that is another reason I don't sleep for very long.  Too much stuff to think about.  If you say the word 'think' too many times it kinda loses its gusto.  After that paragraph all I can picture is a kid with a lisp trying to say 'sink'.

I am about 15,000 words or around 60 pages into the novel I am writing.  It may be good or it may be bad.  I'm leaning to the latter but I don't really care so long as I finish it.  That seems to be the current problem.  finishing it.  I have the story line laid out in my head and it seems plausible.  It is within reach.  I just can't seem to sit down and type it out.  I don't know why.  It's not writer's block for sure.  I think (there I go again) I get distracted too easy.
It's either that or I just use being tired from work as my excuse.
I must say though after waking up at 4:30 every morning, working ten hours in the shop (sometimes blistering hot shop) I usually just come home and hit that zombie state of mind.  I'm there but my eyes are kinda glassed over.  Little bit of drool sliding down and out of the corner of my mouth as I stare at the TV which isn't even turned on.
You know the state of mind I'm talking about.

If I pick up the current book I'm reading I fall asleep within 3 pages and it's not the books fault either!  Although some I have read, it is.  Take right now for instance.  I could have been directing these words at a bigger and better cause than some menial blog post.
I don't know...need to find the mark again.
I think I'll turn the spare bedroom downstairs into my writers den.  Someplace I can go where it is safe to imagine.  Safe to think (without the prick) and a place to let it all hang out,  metaphorically speaking of course...or am I?

Enough rambling.  Just felt wordy this morning.  I have birds to watch.  Busy, busy, busy!

Prick Bushman


  1. Nothing menial about your posts - so tell that to that prick dude living in your head! :)
    Further, you're distracted because you want to be… when you're ready to write, you'll write. A room, just for writing, would be awesome - I have one and it helps when I'm in there, door closed and writing just for me! So go for it.

    As to the beers - so what was the final count… hey, who's counting - you got up and managed to say up so it couldn't have been that many. Sounds like you (and your mental posse) are being way too hard on the real you. Silence them all and enjoy a little peace and quiet. You deserve a mental break from the voices.

    With that… I'm out to enjoy a sunny afternoon… :) :) :)

    1. Prick dude?
      Well, if THAT doesn't sound redundant.

    2. I thought it worked perfectly… aren't all pricks dudes… well, they're attached to dudes, right! :P

  2. The good thing about a bad novel is that you can always MAKE it good, so no matter what it is, just finish it!

  3. I can't help it...the title of this post reminded me of my prostate exam. Which...took...so...frikkin'...long!
    At least I was knocked out during the colonoscopy. By the way, thank you very much for visiting (the story, not the colonoscopy. I'm sure there wasn't a lot of room up there).

  4. I like your perspectives. I hope you reach your goal and finish your novel.

    1. Thanks for stopping by! I hope I finish it too!

  5. Not quite sure how I stumbled onto this, but loved it, loved it! If the book is half as good as the blog (and I've only read your last two posts) I'll definitely purchase a copy!

    1. Thanks Brett! I hope you stick around. I'm always posting crazy! Beautiful dogs you have too by the Way!


Leave your comment here please.