David Bowie Is Already Fading Out Of My Head

Out of nowhere, I have become fatigued and foggy minded and woke up feeling a depression I haven't felt in a long time.

I was feeling so optimistic just a couple days ago, after having discovered that I can go make money selling plasma, and at the same time having gotten a flyer put in my groceries at Winn Dixie saying that they were hiring and making it sound like they are desperate to do so.

So, the depression can't be from despair, as in "What am I going to do? How am I going to feed Harold?" Add to those options the chance to go out and busk and there are opportunities everywhere.

But, it is just a physical type of thing that I can only speculate has to do with either running out of alkaline water and switching to tap water the past couple days, or the fact that I have been doing a lot of kratom while sitting behind the laptop.

The online experience has become less and less satisfying the way other addictive substances will give "diminishing returns." If there is a war in Ukraine and I never hear about it, is that a bad thing? Is sitting and watching coverage of it for hours a bad thing?

So what if I think that the same kind of people that got us into the Vietnam "conflict" and all the wars after that are up to their old tricks. Is that going to have any effect upon my busking at the Lilly Pad, and the quality of life that I can eek out for myself?

I'm feeling better after having done 4 rounds of Wim Hof breathing. Even that was a struggle to get through. 

A look in the mirror offered a third possible cause for my malaise; the ton of jambalaya that I have eaten over the course of the past week. My skin had that off color tone and slight eczema that used to come before I learned to eliminate hydrogenated soybean oil from my diet. I think that I might have gotten away with eating the jambalaya because I was doing other stress reducing things like the Wim Hof stuff, meditation and having had a few nice, therapeutic busking sessions; the kind that leave me calm and relaxed and with a pile of money on my coffee table. 

There were points during the taking of 45 deep breaths when I wanted to stop; and instead just sit and dwell upon "what's bothering me;" something that I know will rarely solve any problems. How can I focus upon breathing in and out when I need to solve all these life's problems? I thought. The only solution is to overcome the problems by focusing on a greater goal and dancing through the obstacles; realizing that a "bad" thing about to happen to you is just a stepping stone towards something better than imaginable; especially if imagined by someone in the state of mind that I woke up in.

It's like waking up in a dark forest and being able to see faint glows of light off in certain directions; but instead of getting up and starting to hike towards it, deciding to just sit there longer trying to figure out in your mind, how you are going to get out of the forest. 

Then starting to think that if you started to walk towards the light, you might trip and fall and break a bone, or get bitten by a poisonous snake before you make it out.

I can see a path out of this; stemming from the "the 3 things I am happy about and grateful for now," list which I had done (forced myself to do) upon waking up.

That had been like at least standing up in the dark forest, so as to look around to see where the faint glows were coming from. Better than just sitting there.

I knew that it was important to not fall into the trap of wondering "what is bothering me?" with the answer being: I can't figure out what is bothering me; and that is what is bothering me, type of thing.

That could turn into making a list of the negative things, which would go totally counter to the Law of Attraction and attract more of the same.

Item #1 is that I had some salmon to give Harold.

I had been too lethargic (probably because of all the jambalaya I had eaten) and had found excuses not to go out and busk. They were like: so I could be well rested and make it to the plasma place to get the 100 dollars.

But then I found excuses to not go to the plasma place (I can go out to busk instead, so I'll have enough money in case the plasma thing doesn't work out for some reason).

This turned in to me doing neither, but instead hunkering down for hours of watching Youtube videos that I am starting to question the value of, as entertainment, or as a source of information.

Item #2 was that we now have hot water in the building and I am hoping that a hot shower will brighten my outlook.

I am basing that upon having hot water last night, though, and I still need to check it now. I think I will go and do that, and take a hot shower if it is indeed hot, and then come back here to continue this post...

Ok, I ran the shower for about 10 minutes and it is back to being lukewarm. So much for the revitalization of a hot shower. The 9 o' clock bird chirped while I was doing that.

I washed up a bit with a cold rag and shaved and now I am having my first kratom of the day, thinking that I could run up to Winn Dixie and get alkaline water and juices and other things like "detox" tea and come back here in time to go out and busk. The temperature outside is like room temperature; a perfect night for busking. I just wish I could look forward to it as something fun, rather than having this unnamed feeling of dread.

I keep having to go out with the attitude of I'm going to ride down there, and if I don't like the looks of things, I can be right back home in about 15 minutes; I don't have to play; nobody is forcing me; isn't that the best part about being your own boss?. 

That is what reduces the stress of riding down there and turning the corner onto Bourbon Street to glance towards the Lilly Pad with my heart in my throat (or whatever the expression is) hoping there is nobody already there. Nobody busking or occupying the stoop in order to run some kind of hustle on the tourists, and being unwilling to give up the spot, convinced that it is a great spot to run their hustle because they might have just made a couple quick scores (with their 'I know where you got your shoes' or whatever, thing).

That being said, another concern of mine is the time taken to write this blog; I'm starting to inventory it.

It was exactly one hour ago that I sat down to begin this post. I'm thinking that a Saturday night, with its busking possibilities, especially on such a perfect night weather-wise, is a poor choice of when to write a blog post.

The longer I type here, the greater the possibility that there will be someone already at the Lilly Pad. If I'm not there, it isn't going to sit there unoccupied all night. There have been times when I showed up pretty late and someone was there who said they thought I was taking the night off, and so they sat there.

Of course, that was when I used to play 6 nights a week, without fail...

Let's hope I can get back here by 10:30 with some healthy foods, drop them off and then be busking by 11 p.m. until whenever. But just as importantly that I will have something to play, and be able to shut off the music on repeat in my head. 

These are always songs by artists whom I have tried to learn from, perhaps emulate, and to aspire to the same level of "success" as. And, now they are either dead and forgotten, or still alive and forgotten; at the stage of life when they are ready to let it all go and prepare to leave this world the way they came in; with nothing; perhaps realizing that all their suffering and struggling for fortune and fame, doesn't matter in the end.

Maybe they are tormenting people like me from the after-world by making snippets of their songs become stuck in their heads, so that they aren't forgotten by the living, even if Spotify isn't playing their stuff.

Why else would I have to have David Bowie singing "Fame, what you get is no tomorrow!" over and over in my head with John Lennon's guitar putting in that Da da da da da duh! riff after it, over and over. When I'm trying to decide if I should spend my bus fare to the plasma place money on food for Harold on the faith that I will make it back at the Lilly Pad.

Or if I should spend it on a couple shots of liquor on the way to the Lilly Pad, on faith that I will make it back and have a nice glow while doing so.

Or if I should just keep it for the ride to the plasma place and not even go out to busk, so I can wash up really well, despite the cold water, and get an early start towards the place..

Right now I am leaning towards skipping the grocery run and heading for the Lilly Pad right away with my gear; I could be playing by 10:15 p.m. that way.

There is only one prime time Saturday night busking opportunity, while the grocery store can be run to any time. Even if that means sleeping until noon and being too late to go to the plasma place, if I make a good chunk of money that would be more of a moot point. 

And, wouldn't a Monday or Tuesday be a better day to donate plasma, when I won't be busking the same night?

I think that is what I'll do. The 10 o' clock bird just chirped, and David Bowie is already fading out of my head...

The carrot in front of my nose as I pedal the bike, though, will be the 2 shots of brandy waiting for me at the Unique Grocery; boy, I'm glad I set aside the bus fare to the plasma place money! ....fame, what you need you have to borrow...

I have just used 2 hours to write the above post, about what I'm not doing. I'm going to have to look into scheduling things, so maybe only certain days will be blogging days; that way I can distill them down to anything important and not blog about the avocado I ate for breakfast or whatever. It's 10:40 p.m. and I guess those 2 shots of brandy are starting to wonder where I am...