in short: i feel Lazy — ´lazier'n'na mother↕fucker; yet i find myself tasked with making an entry in my also-Perpetually Beleaguered blog.
at the moment, the most important thing that i feel i have to enscribe for your perusal, here, is this feeling that had suddenly washed over me, last friday night, as i was walking (from the bus↕stop) to work:
i felt, more than ever, that i had needed to watch my back as i made my way through what instantaneously transformed itself into an even more perilous Valley of Darkness; at that moment, during the 10 o'clock hour, it seemed, to me, as if the entire world had entered a new phase/level of Despair and Wretchedness — and it had to have done so: because my mind was "elsewhere" when all of that came over me; i was not looking for further reason to feel Shittier.
so what That means is, y'all are going to have to be even more vigilant, from this point and on-ward, than before — sorry.
incidentally, that Friday Night was also the night i decided i needed to [trim] all facial hair save the soul patch (which i had already trimmed a couple of months back) and ear-length side↕burns; i left all the hair on my scalp untouched, so as to provide some sort of contrast for my newly-embaldened face.
because of problems i have with Ingrown Hairs, i rarely do that; which i mean to say: when i do go poking around that area (to shape the best goatee or beard i can attain), i only use Clippers—and almost never razors—to trim surrounding hairs down to stubble — but, still, that condition afflicts me, from time-to-time.
i had been feeling bad about not reading books/novels, so, this year, i took steps to rectify that: i had gone through Wuthering Heights (emily brontë), Black Boy (richard wright; both parts), amongst a handful of others; i am now working on Another Country (james baldwin); the next book i will be reading is Giovanni's Room, also by baldwin: upon seeing me read Another Country, early sunday afternoon, while i was visiting at his place, a certain guy (with whom i have a decent bit of History .. and trouble.....), he figured he would let me have at that.
. . . . .
the thing about all the other books i have completed reading is, i had read them all already.
but, i know that my comprehension of the material, all those years ago, was poor, at best; so it was good for me to give those literature another look.
for all the intelligence that people had presumed to ascribe to me in my youth, i really hadn't known shit; or, i had yet to begin unlocking ... [????].
at any rate, the book i'm currently on is rather funny ... but, probably not entirely for the reasons James would hope i'd have; i won't name those reasons, at the moment.
i will say that ... even to this day, i . . . . . sorta find myself gravitating towards Eric.
at least, his "physiological type": red-haired, blue-eyed, just chunky enough.
he seems like he'd be cute
the thing that struck me most about the book is ... it was conceived in 1948, and had been developing in James's womb during the 1950s, being born only in the early 1960s; i guess... ...that this whole Standards & Practices/Television Code-dogma imposed on publicated media really had much more of a cultural impact than i've originally given it credit for; but with the advent of the Industrial Age, over 200-years ago, profanes and vulagres were only proliferated — muther↕fuckers, in real life, certainly were anything but Leave It To Beaver, and The Waltons: shows like I Love Lucy and The Honey↕Mooners were just a bit more fideline to how things really were [at that time] — ralph perpetually with his ever-looming domestic abuse, always threatening to send that mouthy-ass bitch Alice to the moon.
(♫) (no, i'm not sayin' it's okay to *POW*/straight to the kisser just because [a Woman] is being verbally provocative.. ..but, sometimes, [las chicas] just be pushin' it.....)