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Thursday, July 25, 2019

Pierwalker Log: July 25, 2019

Writing start: 8:25 A.M.
Finish: 3:31 P.M.
Total new words (est.): 800
Edited (est.): 10700

1. Failure: Off till 8/5

2. Book Three Melody: Off till 7/31

3. Angel: Book Three: Fourth primary edit of chapter three

4. Random Chance Book Two: First primary edit of chapter three

5. Port Story: Fourth primary edit of chapter three

6. Hidden Bookmarks: 400 new words
Notes: Chapter completed! I'll start the primaries Saturday!

7. LOTR: Read-through of chapter eight.

8. T-Bag: 400 new words
Notes: T-Bag deserves some good news in his life.

Special Projects: Worked on "Looking Out Her Bedroom Window" (Melody BIII).

Extra notes: A quote from one of my all-time favorite aunts--Vivian Charles:

It used to make you so happy, the water. I think it's brave to try to be happy. You've gotten so comfortable being unhappy. Wouldn't it be wonderful to wake up in the morning and choose to be happy, to let the water wash everything away?

In this day and age, what with Trump and global climate change and rapacious corporations destroying everything from the biosphere to civil liberties to democracy itself, with indifference and apathy and sloth at all-time highs, with herdism and conformity at all-time highs, with spineless Democrats and malicious Republicans, with plastic choking the seas and heatwaves roiling over the planet, with grinding injustice and hate normalized and even celebrated, with the media as corrupted and hateful as the "president" whose shoes they salivate over daily, with all of this shit and so much more ...

Aunt Vivian's words are harder than ever to live up to, and are truer today by double or triple than they were ten years ago.

It takes true courage to wake up each day nowadays and choose to be happy. It takes real spine, and real grit.

One thing I know, though: you can't be truly happy and be an indifferent, apathetic twit. You can't be truly happy and wear fucking blinkers or blinders. You can't be truly happy and not give a shit at the atrocities occurring at our southern border. You can't be truly happy and just unthinkingly let the fucking media shovel its shit into your gullet each day. You can't be truly happy and be a herd animal. You can't be truly happy in this day and age and not want to start a goddamned revolution against it all. You just can't.

Being truly happy often looks to others like you're truly pissed off. That's because the truly happy often are, especially these days. One doesn't obviate the other. You need to grow the fuck up already and forget what your fifth-grade teacher told you. She's a goddamned suburban trying her hardest to live a suburban unexistence and thinking if she just gets that new hand moisturizer, that her life will be all better.

Fuck that shit.

A truly happy life is a rebellious life. It's a life spent walking a narrow path. A hard path.

Very few walk such paths. Most prefer the enormous, grey, flat, endless highways of mediocrity and mundanity, ones crowded shoulder to shoulder with herdmanity. Ain't no happiness on those asphalt strips o' hell, no matter how hard the pathetics on them fake it.

So here's to you, Aunt Vivian. You're one of a kind.

Which is why the world is burning. There needs to be millions more of you out there; and from where I'm sitting, there just ain't.

I hope I'm wrong. Truly, I do.