cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fentanyl is Handy. SP1N is buying the story I wrote about the Cure concert. That is a serious win. I'm building back my platform as a public intellectual and writer. A few days ago I had to buy a burner phone and a plan for it, which seems antithetical to the idea of a burner. This is specifically to talk to B1g Lurch and his girlfriend for the feature on him for SP1N, in which I am to fly to CA t interview him from prison in person. This shit cost me $60, which I will get back at some point in expense coverage from SP1N, but hurts right now. I do not want B1g Lurch to have my phone number. Neither would you. Today I fixed the deck railing at Ch1nchill@ Cafe. It was very satisfying. I like doing carpentry. Lane pitched me on a few different things. A story on the guy who runs the Un1versal Life Church who would pay me $5k to spend a month writing an exhaustive story on him. But then I can't place that anywhere respectable if the subject is paying for it. Journalistic ethics. I would be happy to take the job of writing the thing, but I can't place it under false pretexts and Lane isn't even trying to get me to do that. He just doesn't know how journalism works. The deck railing is very solid now. People can lean against it and put their drinks down and its all good. I am about halfway through transforming the book store. Today I proposed that we obtain a number of smoke detectors. In this labyrinth filled with paper and wood, built over 100 years ago. I bought the wood necessary to shore up the sagging bookshelves. I need to buy a new circular saw because both of mine have been lost when all my things in storage were taken. I can't do long cuts across 11" boards with a jigsaw. I like fixing things. I like building things. I wish that this was something that any woman actually found of value. I am making ridiculously little money now. The personal bonus out of the new SPIN story will be a crabbing trip to Tidewater. The amount of money that I make is how I am judged, as a male human in the US. But I can do a brake job, fix a leaky faucet, build a deck or a house, write or edit a book, plant a garden, fix a broken spine on a damaged book, wire up a new lighting fixture, change a diaper, fix a dishwasher. Who I am and what I can do in a household does not matter. I am not a human being with any value whatsoever. The women who wanted to date me when I was using OKC and Bumble just wanted to have a good time while they were waiting for someone with money. The dead man that my son's friend found while on the phone with my son had the right idea last weekend. He had terminal, metastized lung cancer and he didn't want to die in his house because he was worried that the property values would take a hit. He shot himself in front of South Street. Poor Luk3 found him 30 seconds later. I'm told he was a loner. Nobody whom he would expect to go to chemo with. Literally nobody would come with me to chemo. If I have cancer again, I will find the nearest source of fentanyl and OD immediately. Literally. Also I will probably do this at some point anyway since I have no safety net and no retirement fund and I will need to stop existing at some point. 4:29 a.m. - 2023-06-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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