Oct the Eighteenth
All righty, chapter Saturday is officially in the book. Ends on page 111, and you know what? I’m not even bugging… not about the numbers, anyway. I uh… well, I did a whole lot of screaming into my pillow last night and my throat is raw as shit today, but I do feel slightly better. Not nearly so doom and gloom, that’s for sure.
I am sort of bugging, though, because there was a whole subchapter of chapter Saturday I don’t remember writing. It was… well, I can’t remember what I titled it now, but it… wait, what was it about? Hold on, I’m’a reopen the document on my computer.
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Okay, so it was called “A Voyage Guided by the Hand of The Flower,” and it’s like… it’s this crazy fuckin’ journey through… I don’t even know, I can’t think of it. Le’me read it again.
Yeah, it was a journey through something called “Existence,” like, it’s super spiritual and weird and… I do not remember writing it. At all. There’s a guy called “Tom Foolery” who’s “The Keeper of The Sandbox,” but I have no memory whatsoever of coming up with that. Don’t know what “The Sandbox” is, or “The Void” or “Godspace” or “The Garden.” This is really fucking weird.
Direct quote from my book, that I wrote: “…The Garden in all its deceitful glory where The Bookmaker lies forever entombed under the force of His will and His will alone, never to escape until He inevitably does, again and again and again.” What in the fuck is that all about? Who’s “The Bookmaker”? Like, what the fuck? This is weird, Journal. Like, I dig the chapter, it’s just like… what the fuck inspired me to write that? How can a dude write something so, like, full of detail without having any memory of writing it whatsoever? This is too much.
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No, THIS is too much: I closed the document, made my nine dots, and went to write this line, but I couldn’t remember what this whole entry was about. I had to go back up and reread what I wrote and I’m seriously bugging out right now, what the fuck is all of this? I don’t… I feel really weird, everything is tingling, I think I’m having an anxiety attack. I need to breathe. I need to st
… … …
Okay. I breathed. I’m calm now. Honestly, I’m not even sure what I was freaking out about. Don’t really want to go back and reread my journal entry to find out, either. Was probably just doubting myself again, like I always do. Whatever, I’m fine now.
Tomorrow I’m going to get chapter Thursday into the manuscript, maybe chapter Tuesday too – it’ll be a lot, but it’ll also be the 19th day of the month, and 19 is 19 – and then it will be the Oct the twentieth and all I’ll have left is Friday, the Envoi, and my short story, which will be the perfect thing for me to do while I wait for the clock to tick towards the evening when Tori comes over. Very much looking forward to that. Even if she dumps me, I am so very much looking forward to seeing her. Like, she’s totally not going to dump me, I’m just saying… what am I even saying? I don’t know. I’m just riffing, I need to close this notebook for the day.
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Say thankya, Journal. ‘Preciate ya. Long days and pleasant nights~
This has been the next journal entry from Untitled Bigfoot Project. Here is everything you need to know about it:
I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.
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If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~