Posted in Writings

Aug the Sixth – Untitled Bigfoot Project (12/224)

Aug the Sixth

Hey Journal. I’m feeling kind of meh today. It feels like… it’s kind’a like… do you ever feel like no matter what you do you’re moving in slow motion? Like, sort of like you’re stuck in a trap? Or not even that, but that life is going too slowly? Well I suppose you wouldn’t, as you are a journal, and if you have feelings then you probably have problems, too, and if you have problems, Journal, then we have a fucking problem.

But anyway, yeah I don’t know. I’ve been home for… what, four days now? Five? Three? Somewhere in there. I just feel like… I feel like I’m fucking up. Like, I fucked up my college experience, I know that, but I really don’t think the college life was for me. It’s not for everybody, and if it was for me, I probably would have passed my classes and whatnot. Probably wouldn’t have been asked to leave, either, but I didn’t pass my classes and I was asked to leave. And now I’m back home in Logger’s Pond chillin’ at the bottom of Sawblade Lane with Ashley and Jeremy Blake. Here we are.

Yet that’s not what’s bothering me. I really don’t know what it is, it’s like… it’s not that I woke up wishing I hadn’t, nor did I wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I just woke up and… well, my dreams were better than my life, I suppose. Not that my life is bad – I have a roof to live under, food to eat, clothes for my back, weed to smoke, a journal to write in, and on top of all that, the mind which birthed Albey the Mad Poet and all of his innumerable rhymes, along with the many adventures he took with Iuqon and Ram’rl throughout the endless forest of The Hillside Commons until their untimely demise during the Battle at Jericho Tower. Hmm…

Maybe it’s the THC book I’ve yet to tell you about that’s bugging me. The idea’s been sitting all a’fester in the back of my mind ever since Keaton brought it up on the walk back to the campsite the other night an–

Wow. Just realized that in about twelvish hours, that “other night” will have been four whole days ago. What the fuck, ‘man?

You know, maybe it’s the weed. I smoked so, SO much weed yesterday. From sunup to sundown, and I kept on smoking after I got home. I was working a joint down to the roach when I was writing you yesterday, not go’n’a lie (now that it doesn’t make a difference). Would it make a difference anyway, though? I’m high right now and I’m journaling like a bawss. Maybe I’m just burnt, or rather in “afterglow.” Does “afterglow” apply to weed, or is that just for the heavier psychedelics? I never took any – I had the opportunity plenty of times, I just decided not to grasp it. I didn’t start smoking pot until I was in college in the first place, and honestly, smoking pot felt like more than enough for me when I was there. I hardly even drank. I did fuck, though. Definitely fucked.

Anyway, yeah, I’m probably just afterglowing, which is hippiespeak for “I ingested so much weed yesterday that, now that I’ve slept the high off, my body doesn’t feel quite normal.” And the cure for my burntness? More weed, of course.

…                                     …                                    …

Oh yeah, more weed was the answer. No doubt. I just gave that joint a speed round and polished it off, now I’m cruisin’, babycakes. Coastin’, rather. Co-oh-oh’oh’st. We just coast. Coastin’ right on by.

As for today, I’m feeling another woods day. The Foothill here I come, and I’m going to bring the hammock this time, I think. That blue hammock tha–… I haven’t told you about the hammock yet! It’s a portable weather-resistant thing, I got it from this chick at school, we uh… let’s say only some of the stains are from ashes. Hah! You need know no more, Journal. We’re still in the first couple dozen of your pages, no need to bend your virgin spine just yet.

…                              …                                    …

Now that I have another joint rolled, I think that’ll about do it. Time to hit The Foothill.

Thank you, Journal. ‘Preciate ya. Peace~


Hello Commons, this has been the next journal entry from Untitled Bigfoot Project, a novel about a writer who writes a novel about bigfoot.

Untitled Bigfoot Project is part of the Third Spiral, an anthology of sorts called The Here and Now which is comprised of stories told from the various planes of Existence.

Untitled Bigfoot Project is available to read for free in its entirety on my website. Click here to check it out.

I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.

If you like Untitled Bigfoot Project and would like to help support my work, click here and buy an autographed copy of the book (or anything else!) from my store. Alternatively, you can snag a cheaper (and unsigned) copy from Amazon by clicking here OR you can buy the ebook for even cheaper here.

If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. Be well Commons~

Author:

I'm that guy who makes fiction books so he doesn't go insane.

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