I’m fighting my reflection. 11/9/2021
How do I get out of bed when my reflection screams to stay under the covers? He holds me down with a steel grip as my thoughts ponder what needs to be done for the day.
What am I supposed to do when my worst enemy is my reflection?
It's a frightening thought that the only person preventing me from succeeding or gaining traction in any direction is myself.
I'm continuing to transcribe my physical journal entries:
Thursday 12/5 4:04 am
I'm supposed to pay back Dad 240 dollars for the car payments. That's not going to happen. I only wanted tires, not a whole car overhaul. Yikes. I'm watching an ASMR channel by Celaines ASMR. I like her. Cute. She can speak French. 10 out of 10 would bang. I'm going to get Big Jerm a lens package for his phone. He vlogs now. We are shooting a film next week. Yikes. A lot of things have changed. I don't feel excited like I used to. I have zero confidence in myself. I can't even bring myself to edit the damn script. I can't even write a script anymore. Not good, jay. NOT GOOD.
I want to start writing this script about the girl being stalked by a man in a manless world. (No title yet). BUT!! I can't even get myself out of bed. Yesterday ( as I haven't been asleep yet), I woke up at 11 something AM. My little voice was like, "Jason! GET THE FUCK OUT OF BED AND GO TO THE GYM" The big voice responded, " Nah, we're going back to sleep!"
I ended up sleeping for around 12 hours. Not good. During the workweek, I sleep and go to work. I don't want this. I want to go to the gym, write scripts, film something, and then go to work. I hate sleeping all day, but I don't know how to get out of bed! I've been drinking Sailor Jerry all night, even at work. My tolerance is too high cuz I ain't drunk.
Have you noticed the repetitive themes?
It's fear of failing. I'm scared of it, so I don't dare to try. It's better to stay covered in warmth and watch the tellie play youtube videos.
I'll be right back. I'm going to do a 7-Eleven speed run. 10:20am
Ok, I'm here. 10:38am.
I bought two burritos and two Coke Zero Cherry. On my way out of a store, a weathered man in a white hoody sat outside. We made eye contact, but nothing was said. Why did he wait for me to get close to my car to ask for something to eat? I turned around and responded, "I don't have any cash; sorry, man." I resumed walking to my car as he muttered, "I don't want any cash; I just want some food."
I glanced over at him as I ignited my car to head home. He had his head in his hands and looked down at the ground. I felt bad. I should go back in and grab him some food. As I pulled away, I felt even worse. I imagined turning around, parking my car, walking up, and asking him what he wanted. I should have done this, but my reflection again held me firm in my seat as I drove out of the gas station lot and onto the side road home. Poor bloke; I hope someone helps him.
God, I love a fresh, cold Coke. There's a psychological response when opening a cold soda, especially when washing down a nutritionless gas station burrito. Something deeper than dopamine. They perfected the science of the sizzle and the bubbly fireworks that occur when you gulp it down. It's physically and mentally rewarding.
My new hot sauce is Cholula. It's technically not new, but I wanted to return to the basics. I promise not to spill it.
The burritos are genuinely awful.
