March 4th, 2015

2013, cyd, new

And now it's Wednnesday.

I've started adding images of text excerpts of my poems over different backgrounds I create in Photoshop when I post about the audience participation portion of my art project. So far it has gotten me attention from two larger sites, one you may have heard of, theneeds.com, and another I forget the name of. Both announced my page being added to their sites and then deleted the tweets. Often done by professional tweeters so their timeline doesn't get all cluttered up.

I also got a tweet placed on a zen website. I answered a question, "Do you believe in fate?" I said something flippant about believing in stupid. And this zen site added it to their zen quotes of the week. So, basically, all the followers I lost by mass unfollowing the mental health and stoprush crowd, I have gained back in the way of artists, art directors, art blogs, and writers. Far more interesting and productive.

So I read the articles on my timeline now, but don't retweet them, unless they personally touch me. I promote the arts and literature. I realized I was hanging out with the wrong people to get the attention I want. I need to stop isolating myself from other artists. Maybe eventually collaborate on something.

I am so glad I'm rocking the Cymbalta again. I feel so much better.
2013, cyd, new

My tweets

2013, cyd, new

Good night.

Okay, had a little freak out there for a minute. I was sitting here, on the computer, with Photoshop open, preparing to get some photos off of my Kodak Flip camera, tat I have no hope of having turned out well, but sometimes it surprises me and gives me a good shot. And the screen went dim, like it does when the laptop is on battery power. I look at the battery light, it is off. No power getting to laptop. My heart starts beating a little faster. I turn it off and check the cord, no problems there.

I check the connections and reseat the cord at least 187 times. Nothing. Then I notice that the clock isn't on, it is plugged into the same power hub (it's not really a strip). So, no power to the strip. My heart calms down a little. I go to get another power strip and come back and move the couch silently to get to the plug. Once the couch was sufficiently moved, I looked behind it for the outlet.

I found a Boomer. Sitting on the cord. Pulling it out just a little bit. Just enough. She looked up at me and meowed sweetly. I petted her and moved the blanket that she was laying on over, so that it wasn't on the cord. I got her settled and moved the couch back. Everything better.

I'm serious, I'm just waiting for this laptop to die. Because it really would push me over the edge.

Last month marked three years since I've been committed. So I'm really paranoid that something is going to happen. Some catalyst that will put me back in big rooms with waxed floors and vinyl furniture. Med times and feeding times. Constant observation and commentary on everything I do. I'm terrified of it. There is now a different hospital in the city, but it's been on the news a lot for patient dumping and other unsavory things. So I'll stick with my hospital.

None of them are covered by my insurance. You know what is covered? The long-term state hospital in Carson City. Where criminals end up if they are very, very lucky and don't just get fast tracked into jail. I'm not going there. No fucking way. I would get torn apart. I am a lucky person in that my hospital takes Medicare. Because a week's stay in that place is in the $30,000 range.

I just gotta keep my shit together. Remember to take my meds. I'm thinking of using the post-it note procedure, though it will drive me nuts having them all over the place. Doc says maybe that will make me remember better and not have to have them up all over. Yeah, it doesn't work like that. Nice try, guy.

Micro SD cards are an amazing bit of technological genius. That being said, they are also an unnamed evil that can destroy your life. You use your fingernail to push down so it will pop up out of whatever electronic device, and the little fucker takes off like a drone. If it weren't for the cats, I never would have found it. Teeny, turns out, watched the little thing fly like a missile defense system. My little Iron Dome. I managed to get it from her before she got her mouth on it, and get it into the adapter and into the computer with no further incident.

My rechargeable batteries are dying. They've led a good life. I have a set of 8 that I use in the cameras and they get used constantly. I take pictures just in case I like the image later.

I've been thinking about how I would break certain pieces of mine up into "duets". It's popular in performance poetry and it's an idea I really like. Back in the day when I was who I was here, I did break up a piece on the fly with another performer and it turned out pretty good. He played the voice in my head in the piece, I played the outer facade. Musicians, too. One night a drummer started riffing as I was reading and though I don't really write with rhythm, it sounded good, and I got into a completely different groove with that piece than I ever had before.

I know, I have to get my ass down to the Human Experience downtown on Monday nights. I need a friend who can ride the bus with me and go with me and be the familiar face in the crowd. I can't do it alone. I need someone to save me if I get surrounded by people afterward, which has happened more than a couple of times.

I'm watching CSI: Cyber. It's . . . Arquette is playing Gibbs (NCIS) playing Abby (NCIS). I can't wait until this one jumps the shark and some man breaks through her walls. Hey! I'm into my shows! I got retweeted by the the show "Scorpion's" twitter account. I'm ashamed of myself because I used hispter speak and got positive attention for it. I feel dirty. I will not reach down into the ignorant or too damn young readers to gather friends or fans. They bring drama and time wasting. I'm over it. I had my year on twitter, and I learned some things and I still have questions about other things.

Wow, that paragraph escalated quickly. Got to keep an eye on that.

I have pictures that prove what the cats do to me. One taken right after I vacuumed, the other taken a half an hour later. Giving ten minutes for Major, Vader, Teeny and Chewy to decide I've put the vacuum away and come out from wherever it is they hide. So twenty minutes to make sure every toy is off the scratchy thing and on the floor. They haven't gotten them down the hallway yet, that will be tonight. Into the kitchen and down the hall.

I"ve just taken my meds, so I'm going to read twitter for about 15 minutes, have a smoke and go to bed. Good night.