Depression, Mania and the Edge of Madness

Greetings, all...my friend Riz likes to refer to her readers as "blurkers," and I wonder if that's not an apt term. Well, get ready for this one, because we are about to go on a ride.

I am not writing this for you to feel sorry for me, so please don't do that. Also, I am right now back on an even keel, and we'll see just how long that lasts. 

I write this mostly to give you an idea of how I feel at this time, and also how a lot of people (I think) are doing. This is not uncommon, not that extreme, and nothing for you to be terribly worried about. But this shit happens, and with me, it fucking happens.

About ten days ago, I felt it coming...I felt the very slow surge of emotions moving on me, and you know what it is. It's like being around Cape Horn in a tiny boat; you're already battling gigantic waves, and then you see it in your binoculars: that one, monstrous, 100-foot tsunami that is coming right at you. And you can't do a thing about it.

I have reason to feel this way. Yet, should I? 

First, let's take a look at the situation. Oh, and I am about to shamelessly plug again:

Yes, once again, my book "Parasite Girls" is ready for sale, and you can get it here:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/377011

Sales are slow...very slow. I should know this, right? It's an e-book, no, there's no book in hand, not right now anyway.

But do you need that? Really?

Look, I'm as much in love of the feeling of a good, old-fashioned BOOK. I love the feel of them. I used to have tons of them, and I still have more than I need. 

That's where part of this issue comes from. I did not expect it to fly through cyberspace, and I did not expect "Parasite Girls" to become a runaway hit...but I would have like more than just a few downloads of the free part that you can read to decide if you want it or not.

Ah, well...such is life. I remind myself, this is only a first step to getting more, and even better stories out there. If this is how it goes, then so fucking be it.

NOW...TELL THE OTHER SIDE OF MY BRAIN THIS!

I am poised on the edge of writing a new story...in fact, I have two or three that I could start any day. But...I have to promote the first one.

My friend Jess has kindly asked me to do a reading of "PG" at her restaurant in downtown York. The Ladybug Cafe (shameless plug for my good friend) is a cool place...great food, nice people, all good...so I will do it on the 11th of December. I am still not sure how I'm going to execute this, but I must engage, read, and talk to the people. Whomever will be there. My erstwhile bassist, Dan Shearer has offered to add guitar to the drama that shall come from this.

Haha...oh, this is hilarious as I write. Now I'm chuckling...everyone's going to think I'm mad...oh, where I am, they already know that.

So yeah, I'm not done...I'm not quitting, and I am forcing my brain to understand that all things take time. You have been patient this long, keep going, do not quit.

Okay...now the next situation:

I am going into my fifth year without full employment. My jobbing about at various places does not exactly translate into good, or even livable income. I'm holding the line just fine, but you know what? Something has to give here.

I have spent two years actively job hunting and searching. Yesterday, in exasperation I turned most of the work over to a service, and hope they can get me some additional looks, hits, and so forth. We shall see.

A few weeks ago, I went to Philly, and appeared at a networking party. It was done at the Wells Fargo Arena; basically, I bought a ticket to the Sixers game, and got stuffed into a tiny room with 75 other job seekers. We were shuffled about to team executives from the Sixers, Phillies, Union, the ECHL and others.

Met some pretty cool people, and very interesting folks. I did better talking with them than getting hold of the executives. The Sixers I don't think were in charge of this; the company that did it does not know how to lay on a networking event, we all agreed. Pretty slip-shod.

I missed the tipoff, and I only watched the first half, because I had to work in HBG that morning...Sixers got their clocks cleaned by the Warriors, who have got some pretty damned good players these days.

No time to really enjoy the experience, though I will go to a game again in future.

So yeah...I also was turned down for numerous jobs, and have been ignored for at least one that I have done before. How it goes...

...so now...let's get to the good part, shall we?

The tsunami hit me over the weekend. Today (Wednesday) is the first day in several that I have not ridden waves of mania and savage depression. This has not been fun, folks. One minute, I feel fine...the next, I'm ready to commit atrocious acts. No, not really, but you feel like you could.

There are ways to counter this, but none of them were working. I hit the pool yesterday, despite having done it the day before and not being in the best of rested condition. But I tore through it, and felt better for doing so. Dragging myself to the gym and forcing myself in there was the only way. 

When I cannot avidly go there, and see that place as Hell, you know there's trouble.

The cold is another matter. The weather overall, really. Overcast, dark, rainy and cold conditions here, no snow, but I'd rather have that. Most days like these don't bother me, but it's taken a toll on me again.

The past two days have been gut-wrenching. My ego has been tamped back down into its little box, as I demand that I stop thinking like a fucking adolescent about why life didn't turn out right. It does no good, so I will not let that to light anymore.

So what happens is, you force everything into a tight space, and it's not big enough to accommodate it. My feelings of inability start to ooze forth, and I wonder what now can I do to correct this? Is it to late?

I try to consider that I've done about all I can right now, and there really isn't much more available to me at this point. So now what do I do?

The key thing is to "DO" something. I am not a slacker; I have been shamed into lack of slackness from years of my upbringing, where on a farm if the work is done, FIND MORE.

And it's true...the work is never done. There is something else to do, just find it. If you can't find it, you are not looking hard enough.

I have this strange collection of little jobs that I should do, and I keep saying I'll do them, and I never do. That is the most galling and awful thing to me...I hate that...I hate being able to do a lot of things, but not the little ones that have to get done, from a practical standpoint.

One of those is sitting in the back seat of my car right now; today, I was to take this set of items to a place and get them seen to...place was closed...owner hadn't shown up yet.

Thank you for your interest...NOT.

Well, there are other strange things...appointments...I have one to make in about 40 minutes from now, but that is easy. Getting my car to a shop for inspection will finally happen next month, but it took days for me to finally just call the place and make an appointment.

I think I fear the lack of my ride. Sitting for hours in that place, with a blaring television of shit network programming, and...PEOPLE.

I'll make sure I have my headset with me, should that arise.

I have to also take initiative on another thing, but I'm uncertain because I don't have much experience in the area. The only person I know and trust with that can't do it.

OK...need to own this motherfucker, and just do it.

I can do many other things, why not this?

Let's now take this up a notch, to a period of the year that everyone can understand, OK?

THE HOLIDAY SEASON.

Do you know how much I CAN'T FUCKING STAND the holidays?

This has NOTHING to do with religion, or Christmas, or any of that. Just so you know. I don't care one damned bit how you celebrate, or how you don't, that's your business. 

In broadcasting there are no days off. I tend to be the one that is on duty, at least part of those days, and that's fine. I don't mind it.

When it comes to Thanksgiving, I now have my own tradition. I like to cook, and I'm not very good at it, but I do like to do that. So I try to build my time around that, if I'm not working. I like football as much as the next guy, but since I don't have cable and I don't drink, I'll be listening on the radio, probably. All good, no worries.

I will NOT BE SHOPPING ON THANKSGIVING. I will also AVOID LIKE THE PLAGUE the so-called Black Friday. 

I understand for some that is a tradition, it's fun, and yes you can get great deals. Cool, go for it. Knock yourselves out.

I just don't need to do it. I fail to understand it, never have.

Actually today is the day to get the one thing I really want, but I tend to vacillate about whether or not the "thing" I want is really something I need.

And do I need one more thing? I've spent the past month or so in another round of removing stuff I don't want or need. Those recycling bins you see all over the place, they know me pretty well. I just hope that stuff really does get recycled, given to others in greater need than I. I hope so. There's my give-back...these things are good, useable, safe...use them.

So yes...my internal whatever has been a fucking mess the past two weeks or so, and I'm sure it's not going to stop. This time of year, and then extending right through Xmas to the end of it, I have no idea how to cope except to move through it. 

Yule will be a good night to be alone, to light up my altar and reflect on where we are now. That is usually what I do this time of year, but I also tend to approach that with some caution and even more dread.

I have to tell myself this: I have accomplished much in these years, and I have more to offer, and to give. I will do it, and I will not quit. My family doesn't quit for nothing, and that's that.

I am riding out a not-so-perfect storm...today I'm good. Tomorrow, who knows?

This is what I deal with on some level, every fucking day of my life. This is not fun. This is also not for you to feel sorry, as I've said. 

If I could push a button and turn this off, I would not do it. My creative abilities would vanish, and I'd be nothing more than a drone in a suit, sitting at a desk somewhere, or walking the aisles of a convenience store in the middle of the night. I would not be me. I would be even less.

Whatever happens, I have to keep pushing, promoting and moving forward. The survival mechanism, I suppose; I do admit to lacking some of the tools I need to really get forward, but I made it this far.

Whatever...time to get going on "things." Fun, fun, fun...

"Parasite Girls," Release Event, and Getting Pieced Back Together...

Hey all...it's Thursday morning, and I'm slowly buzzing my way in the upward direction. Chick Corea and John McLaughlin's "Five Peace Band" is an appropriately rippling sound to go through my brain right now. Interesting stuff...

So, yes...the book came out on Monday!

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/377011

You can view it there, and buy it if you choose. Currently, the manuscript is under review, which means until it passes muster, it's only available there. Soon, however, "Parasite Girls" will be available across numerous platforms, including Amazon, Barnes & Noble, KOBO, and also through participating libraries. Very cool.

Well, the selling part is slow. I had to expect that, because when one goes to Smashwords, you see that EVERYONE thinks they're an author.

Now I'm not going to be a critic and shit on people's writing I have not read, if it is not my taste. But I can see why certain rules and regulations are in place for what can be published and what can not.

I'm not offended by it, but...there is an awful lot of alleged erotica for sale, in short story version, and for not much money. I say "alleged," because erotica and pornography to me are two very different things. If erotica is written well, and is experienced or imagined well, it can be very good. 

Then there's the stuff I recall seeing on spinning racks in one of porn shops in Boston's former Combat Zone some 20 years ago. About like that.

I will not name the name of the person who wrote one bit I chose to sample (I don't even remember his/her name), but this lesbian erotica was nothing more than some sexually repressed individual who had no experience, and used adjectives stolen from other such writing. Blech.

I don't have a problem with you projecting your fantasies, because I won't be buying them. But you'd think there'd be a little respect for craft? Oh, that's right, what am I thinking...? My bad.

There was one guy who had a string of short stories, and I get the feeling either he hasn't had sex for a long time, or he's got a misogynist streak in him that only Adam Carolla and similar such losers can top. It's not about objectifying women (or men, for that matter), but an outright resentment, and even hatred for them.

Interesting, no?

So anyway...the great advantage of being able to self-publish means you are creatively free. For the most part, anyway. No one checks on you, unless you are willing to submit your work to a professional, in order to make sure you are doing it right.

I am thankful that I got a free shot. Christie Stratos of Proof Positive put out an offer to proof work for free to start her business. I got lucky, and was one of those people. She gave me a very strong review of something I did not learn in school, or just didn't bother to listen to.

A lot of my issue was punctuation, and the killer commas. They kill dialogue, dead. Christie helped me through her critique and examination get rid of them, so the storyline flowed better.

Most writers I'd hazard a guess don't do that. They just put it up there, under the idea that, "Oh, it's my work, it's brilliant, and people will flock to it."

Ah, no. So far, the only person who has bought "Parasite Girls" is ME. I made the buy as a test, and also a gift for a relative. I needed to make sure the system worked. It does, so it's all good.

I've found my work is in a sea of published authors, self-published authors, and wannabes. I do NOT want to be seen as the latter; I'd like to think I'm a step or two higher than THAT.

So anyway, I am going to be talking this mother up for a while, and I hope you'll forgive me. I just think "Parasite Girls," while not the greatest work of my career, is a good story that examines social concerns, some real-life issues, and an underlying theme: WE ALL HAVE A STORY.

Everyone has their reasons for why the things we do, which I noted earlier. Aidan, the main character tells his by doing, not talking. A lot of flashback scenes for him bring his life in a way, full circle. His longtime friendship with the female lead, Mima is seen through the past, and how that past becomes present.

Now, the term "Parasite Single" is one you have likely never heard of, unless you are from Japan or lived there. There is a book about it, written by a professor named Masahiro Yamada. I have not read this book, and in no way am I going after the man for what he wrote.

But he formulated the book over this phenomena he detects in Japanese society, and it is a shift. A lot of young Japanese women (and I don't doubt some men, too) seem to be staying at home a lot longer than you'd think, and allegedly living off their parents so they can live self-indulgent lives.

Okay, I can think of at least one or two of those in my own family, but I won't name names. Their business, their choice. And that's another point--these folks made their choices.

Why so different in Japan? Well, the concept of roommates is not exactly known over there, far as I understand it. Japanese folks live alone, or they live with family. This is not unusual in itself. Prof. Yamada's assertion it seems is there a fair number of "parasites" who do go to school, go to work, make good money, etc., but they stay at home. 

The insinuation is they spend all their money on themselves, and offer nothing to the family in terms of rent, board, upkeep, food, and so on.

That cannot be the case in every single person. This is one thing I do not like about criticism--it's too easy to paint with a broad brush, or in some cases, a power painter.

Everyone has their reasons. In America, you often hear snarky comments in the media or from internet trolls who say that so and so lives in his mom's basement, or stupid shit like that. Anyone who does that, they assume must be a failure at life or a loser, or something.

Well, everyone has a reason. Sometimes it's money, lack of work, illness, think about it. Aidan's journey takes him back into Mima's life, and those of her dearest friends, Sora and Eko. They appear to be parasites, and are tagged as such. 

Why? Both are about 30, and still live at home. We soon find out why, in Sora's case, and it's a matter that's close to me.

Eko seems the poster child for the term, but she too has a story.

Again, we paint with a very broad brush, and we have to be really careful not to. Not all people are what they seem, and behind each person's plasmic self are the reasons for what they do, or don't do.

Simple as that.

So, where to next? I hope to be making an appearance in York next month, as part of the city's First Friday series. More on that soon. In the whirlwind of getting "Parasite Girls" out for the public, I've had to consider everything else. Those mundane things like, you know, work, haha.

My personal issues are not so great at this time I can actually focus enough to sit here and write this to you. I have to be patient about the book, and do my best to stimulate some interest. Either way, I am undaunted about the next steps I plan to take, and those will be formulated over the next few months.

I do have to consider "work," because while I have some, I need to find more. Such fun there, but that's life. I have to think about the world I live in, and I mean at home. There's a lot to focus on, and yet I am having a hard time focusing on each thing. Occasionally I disappear into that wormhole, and don't stop until I get a proper conclusion.

Kinda like my writing, heehee. As I've said before, I write because I love it. It's therapy, I think I have a bit of a knack for it, and there is something really satisfying about the accomplishment.

When Alice and I saw the book drop on Monday, I felt a great relief. For better or worse, "Parasite Girls" is out there. I fucking did it.

Till next time, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Peace, Out.

"Parasite Girls" upcoming release, and Why the Things We Do...

Well, here it is Sunday, and I'm in the Office, trying to organize myself and get ready for another exciting afternoon behind the board for Hershey Bears hockey...can you smell the sarcasm cooking yet?

Oh, I do enjoy the job, but it has its disadvantages. I am hopeful to soon know more about long-term and actual employment, but I have a much more important step to take on Monday.

It's time for a SHAMELESS PLUG:

How about that?

This is the cover for "Parasite Girls," my debut, which comes out on Smashwords as soon as this week. A dream will come true...I will be a published author.

Hold your applause, please, because I want to make sure we can get this done and done right before any of that. My friend Alice will do diligence at getting the final format done tomorrow, and the upload completed. 

Let's hope it goes well. Mitch Bentley is the artist, and you can find out more about his work and services at Atomic Fly Studios.

So, what's it about? In a nutshell, "Parasite Girls" is the story of a burned out journalist named Aidan who is trying to remake himself. He turns up on the doorstep of his old college friend, Mima and they reacquaint. The past is recalled, some of it scary; Aidan soon leans that while on her own, Mima struggles with her past and present.

Two of Mima's closest friends, Sora and Eko are also tagged with an unfair term, the "parasite single." It's a real phrase, used to describe young people who stay at home longer than they "should," and live off their parents.

The point is that's a broad brush and wrong to use on everyone. Aidan knows everyone has a story, and he finds out what theirs is.

Aidan recalls, as do the others, just what never dies despite years and miles that separate people.

I hit on some real aspects of society, and return to a place I once lived. I also have a few things to say about the media which I work in, and also a look at mental illness, and some of its manifestations.

It's a good story, I think, and one that needs telling. I do not touch terribly deeply on some items, because those would be books in themselves. 

The book comes out on Smashwords, here's my profile:

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/torygates

More info there very soon. I also joined an interesting group, the Independent Author Network:

http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/

The landscape of writing and authorship has changed. Actually, it changed a long time ago but we were loath to allow ourselves to think that. The days of being sneered at (and worse) for putting out your own work is no longer a bad thing. It does NOT mean you suck as a writer, or weren't good enough to rate a publishing contract, a book tour, and the top spots on the NY Times Bestseller List and Oprah Winfrey's reading list.

The thing is: this changed a long freaking time ago and we did not know it. Or again, our egos did not let us consider it.

Here is my case study, which I use as a template: about 17 years ago, I conducted an interview with two fellows from New York (by way of Maryland) who were in a folk-rock duo called the Wicomicos. Carmen Yates and Mikel Campbell had been in a rock band in the early 90's, had a record deal, all of that. It didn't work out.

They chose to cut loose from all that, by writing their own songs, producing their own records, touring in a big red van, and getting their own gigs. They did it themselves, made a name for themselves, and produced two very good recordings.

Carmen is in New York, and primarily makes a living producing music for soundtracks, TV commercials and other such projects. He has a new band called Racing Rain. They showed us it could be done.

Self-publishing has taken off with the advances in computer technology. Used to be, you had to pay some company a lot of money to make your books for you. This is called a "Vanity Press." Now the term has changed, and the way this is all done has changed a lot, too.

I have shied away from any company that wants money for me to put my books out. I don't have it, and I wouldn't throw it down the hole. I know of too many horror stories, too many people who were ripped off, too many people whose dreams were stolen by sleazy, unscrupulous operators. Just look at Writer's Beware, and you'll see those stories.

Not to say you can do it all for free, not at all. I've been careful with the money I spend on getting "Parasite Girls" ready. You see the cover? That was my largest expense, I suppose, but still a very reasonable amount, given Mitch's talents and the hours he spent on it.

You do need a killer cover. Get that through your head, folks. I also thank Alice for focusing in on a pivotal scene, the one that captures your imagination (I hope) and also captures the energy, the mania and the madness of each person involved.

Now, back to music for a bit: for years, I saw artists selling their music from the stage. Even those who had record deals did that, cut out the middle man, $15 for the CD, right here, right now? Why the hell not?

Hard to do with books. You can't really tour if you're not known, and the days of that are pretty much over. I am NOT the kind of person that can sit at a table in a bookshop with a stack of poorly-made books with shitty bindings and a generic cover, smiling with the hope that somebody buys my book.

It does not work. You need to engage--you need to show them, not tell them. A bit of fine advice from writer friends about my style years ago.

I am still trying to figure out how to engage with a book that is not a book. I will figure that out.

There are countless bands out there that do it themselves. With no label but the one they form for themselves, a Reverbnation and/or a Facebook page, and the availability of reasonably inexpensive recording gear, they are already on the way. Sure, you're not flying first class (if at all!), you're sleeping in the van, on people's floors, couches, spare beds, at your mom's. You see where I'm going, right? You pay your dues.

The amount of money you make will largely NOT be the millions you dream of. The adulation you expect will be no more than whomever is sitting or standing in front of you. 

But that's not so bad...I recall years of doing Rocky Horror before no more than a couple dozen like-minded crazies, and they appreciated what we did. I played to larger crowds too, and it's nice. Enjoy when you get it. The main thing is what you do to get there.

I have more fun writing and creating my semi-real-world universe than anything else of late. I have a ton more stories of different types that I want to tell because I think I have something you might like. If not, no big deal.

I do not plan to soak you for cash. The price will be reasonable and level with what others are charging. Cool thing is, you don't need an eReader or a Kindle--download, read on your smartphone or your computer. All good.

Suffice to say: the world has changed, and we have to change with it. I am putting "Parasite Girls" out to test the ebook waters, and to introduce myself to the world.

There is no point in waiting for a book deal, or for an agent who understands what I'm trying to do to get me one. I'm going for mine, right fucking now.

Amanda Palmer said in a recent speech (paraphrasing here) that the audience you present to might just be those people in someone's living room, attic, space, etc. How true. I told you about Rocky Horror; I recall doing a demonstration of a series of pieces from a version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame in the loft apartment of the director's friend in New York in '96. Maybe two dozen people there? I don't remember. But you do it, because you love doing it.

I love writing. I love my work in broadcasting. I love to play music. It's fun. To be able to do these things and actually make a living is ideal, and I have had that over the years, so I'm damned lucky.

I am not done yet, either. Parasite Girls is just the start, and I have more to share. I hope to live long enough to not just reap some of the fruits of my labor, but to see how you react to it. That'll be the bigger payoff.

I'll be shamelessly plugging it all on my Facebook, Twitter, Google+ and fuck knows where else. This is what I do.

See ya.

Parasite Girls, Time the Healer, Sylvia Plath...and the Point of it All...

I am not ashamed to tell you that right now I am in a holding pattern, partly of my own doing. One of the unfortunate results of that is finding myself stuck, and l fear leaving others in the lurch. It's not something I am happy about.

Without ever saying it, my late father by example did his best to keep his word on things. We all learned that, and for that reason I sometimes find it very hard to promise things to others. Because I have no idea in about 50% of the cases whether or not I can actually follow through.

It's easy in some ways--people need me to cover the, I'm there. That's because I need the money, but also because I do actually enjoy the dying industry I live in.

That plus a series of incidents and issues has led me to once again find myself on the edge of a pit that I do not wish to fall into again. It's pretty bad when you don't sleep properly (the worst thing for whatever my brand of depression is!), and then awaken to find it's fucking 12 Noon.

Lovely. So much to do, no time to do it in. And yet that may well also be an illusion I've allowed to manifest.

So, where are we? August 1st, and I wish to know where I am, still. I've had a few friends ask me about my work, and what's going on there. Well, suffice to say I've been cruising through cyberspace for the past 12+ months on the job hunt, and yes, also looking outside the broadcast realms. Couple of interesting interviews did take place, so I am encouraged.

Of course, it means...moving. The days of being able to drive to my job are no longer, and that means for me pulling up stakes. I am aware this is something I will have to do; there is nothing left for me to do in Pennsylvania, and I think a change of scenery is what I need. I need it, badly.

I feel sorry that I have not been able to commit to things, musically. That leaves one person hanging, but thankfully he's using his mad skills with another project, and I hope for their success. Add to that: here in York, I give respect and props to friends who have produced really awesome music. Their talent goes way beyond anything I have to offer in that line. My job as a DJ is to help them get some kind of attention, which is well deserved.

That has been my role. To push, promote, and let others know who's really out there. I guess I tried to push myself into that hole and I think I'm alright, but not what works. Not now.

Let me get to the next one here...w/o internet service at my house, I've had more hours to read, edit and do stuff in a comparative silence. I have to admit, I like that. What it has done is allow me to examine things a little more closely, than I normally would do.

The net is our TV, isn't it? We watch it, read from it, and get all obsessed over what's on it. I'm not going to go on a rant about how awful it is, because that is pointless. Nothing is ever good enough for some people, and nothing will ever fit their pigeonholed respectability whateveritis. Do what you gotta, folks.

Sylvia Plath's unabridged journals are a very slow, heavy read. I'm basically reading her diaries. And again, these have to be taken in a very small bit at a time. Her word use, big words, some kind of education none of us could possibly get today...let those elitist little "exceptional" brats (and especially their voyeuristic parents) have a go at THIS!

What I get out of it, though is that Plath suffered from the same issues a lot of us do. She suffered losses, went through all the turmoil any human being did, but felt it so much more intensely. She was human; you see her struggling in the pages with her family, the need to be wanted by another, but also the need to be who she had to be. Sylvia vacillates on her writing, ignores it, comes up with ideas for stories with impossible names for characters, but you wonder where they all went.

She was ahead of her time, in terms of her feminist views, but these were not fully formed, I don't think. She left behind an awful lot for us to consider, though, about ourselves.

So where does that leave me? Well...as I've shamelessly plugged you can find me on Behance.net, and the rough opening of "Parasite Girls" is there. That will come out later this summer, and I do hope very much to see some cover ideas from my artist friend.

I'm already trying to consider the follow-up. I don't know if I should do this, but with down time and "stasis," the word Sylvia uses a lot, I have to do something.

I look back at a lot of my writings from years past--all just waiting to break out, and I realize my style changed. What I have is still good, but not good enough. Nowhere near. I must go back to that. I must bash at it yet again.

So in the meantime, what have I got?

I think "Time the Healer" might be the followup. The rough opening is also on the Behance site. It's longer, but in ebook form it'll not be so bad. I think I can have it ready for 2014. My goal is now to publish one every six months, while still trying to find some method of getting into a real book form.

The cost is not going to be prohibitive, and hardly do I expect my friends to buy everything I write, of course not. But it's got to get out there, and the window is closing.

"Time" also is rather timely...it deals a lot with bullying, and the violence that surrounds it...also what happens when people stick their heads in the sand and pretend it doesn't happen. Not all of this is personal, but enough is and what I have done with it makes it compelling enough for others to wake the fuck up.

The main character is remaking herself (aren't we always doing that?)...without ever seeing the video until today, I now realize what is fitting about this:

"Point of it All" is from the solo album, "Who Killed Amanda Palmer?" I was listening to this recording and others of hers as I put the story together. 

This is where we are. 

I woke up late, and with a mind to go do something I should be doing today, and the feeling of no drive, no energy and no will is horrid to me. Being lazy is not something I enjoy--it comes from years of being told not to be lazy, to be active, to work, and work, and work the fuck some more.

I do not know what it is like to be lazy, even when forced to it. Yet, some must think I am, because they see me sitting in the "Office," banging away on my laptop or staring at it.

My surgery of one month ago does have a hand in this, but I am improving, so you'd think I would feel better about it. I do, but I am finding this world around me a crushing one, that I have to fight off, as I do ongoing depression.

That video above? I've heard and played that song fuck knows how many times. I love it; it's well-written, the piano and the way it was recorded (not sure how from listening to it) and what little instrumentation around that just fits. The video did not depress me, but you feel something, don't you? 

Ain't that some shit?

Resignation as well...what I hope everything to be will NEVER be. I am starting to realize that what I hoped for is not something I think I want, anyway. Because what I wanted will transform out of my hands and into something that it's not. Or...is it because I wish to control it, that I won't let it grow?

Oh. Now that is tough one, isn't it? Perhaps I should let it go, as I have had to go many things, my land up home, my last connections to certain places, and to again look down the open road and see what's there.

And yet I must wait. Wait for things to change, on their own time, but wonder also if I have time, enough for it. Perhaps it is to take these matters more securely in my own hands and say, "Fuck it! I will go NOW!"

Not instant gratification, mind; more just a matter of putting things into action and saying, "Alright, now it's moving--let's see where it goes."

Depression. It is not fun. I do not, as another has said, wish this on even the person who hates me most, if anyone actually does. 

For those who are starting to wonder, believe me I am not considering any kind of drastic measures. I have no interest in creating that kind of mess, because I have learned that to stay is to keep fighting all of it, and to eventually win, because you are still here and you didn't ring the curtain down prematurely.

An old friend very bluntly stated that she didn't think much of those who offed themselves, because they gave up. Well...there are some who would take that way out rather than face the reality of what was before them, true.

Not everyone though--for some cultures, there's still the matter of honor and pride. I understand it, but I don't. We can't fully understand a place we've never been, and never grown up and lived in, can we? But we think we do.

It's noted in "Parasite Girls," that suicide is at times a dark place where if you fall into it...(I'm leaving it blank, you decide for now)...

So what is "the Point of it All?" I don't know. I have a bad habit of using other people's lyrics and songs for inspiration because I don't feel most of what I have written in that line really works. They just don't fit, and I don't find my own lyrics and songs to be that inspirational. They do work in certain ways, but not always.

Just one more step of development I guess.

I'll try a little harder today, to get moving. Sorry if this is a rambling mass of whatever...but this is what you get. You get one draft in my blog, that's all!

"I write reams of this shit every day, haha!" -- John Cale loops that in one of his songs, I love it.

Peace, Out.

"Can you tell me where I am?"

Well, the past few days could have been a damned sight better, but now I am starting to see a whole bunch of things come home. One of them is part of me, and it's the one that I've tried to avoid.

I'm going to add a link at the bottom of this blog, which is by Stephen Fry. It is about four days old, but in it are some chilling and very sad details of what he tried to do to himself last year.

I've been there...not gone to the extent he did, but in the planning stages, and facing down a bottle that would send me straight to oblivion and whatever afterlife there might be.

Just so you know, this is NOT on my to-do or "Bucket List." Forgive me, but I fucking hate the latter term! If you have to fill a bucket with all your dreams and delusions, then you are not living life! You are still fantasizing about it!

As Henry Rollins said, "DON'T THINK ABOUT IT! JUST DO IT!"

At the same time...do we realize you cannot always just do it?

The process of life is one of hurry the fuck up and wait a while. I've been doing that. I'm waiting a long while for work, and my prospects are few. I keep plugging away in the hope that the luck will change, and I'll find employment in a field that actually values my presence in it.

That said, I've had to take the step of seriously considering selling the one thing I have that would give my future stability: my land.

This is my retirement, and hopefully it can remain there and we'll see what happens for the time in between.

I have long dreaded being in the place I was 20 years ago, when I was still paying my dues and watching the world pass me by. I eventually made my way up into that, and am back down yet again.

But I'm not done yet.

I am awaiting the results of the cover idea for "Parasite Girls," and then eventually we will get that out there in the eBook world. Meanwhile, I am looking for the follow-up, and I have plenty to do with there. But what one?

More and more, I think a lot of my stuff just is not ready, yet.

http://www.behance.net/torygates

Here is a new site, where the proof opening to "PG" shall be found. Also, the opening bit to "The Drifters" is here. See what you think. There will be more eventually.

Now...back to that darkening set of clouds on the horizon: I'm seeing it manifest elsewhere. Without going into dramatic detail, one of my relatives is suffering greatly from something I've written about in "Parasite Girls," but I can't even begin to describe what some are facing.

And what it does to those around that person, well you can pretty much tell.

I am sympathetic, and somewhat empathetic to the deal, because I'm in it. Sometimes I look further, and realize I am losing the ability to get beyond my own issues.

Even with all the optimism in the world, it's hard to find a future. I don't see much of one, and yet I have to say to myself that I will secure one somehow.

I see little hope for advancement in my chosen field, and even less in others. I find myself also wondering just how I am to progress in other areas. For all the idealism that things are improving, some of us are not.

One reason involves the technological changes--the world got ahead of me. One of my failings is a lack of aptitude and understanding of the computer age. As much as I'm interested in them, and enjoy what they can do, I don't understand how they work. 

My mind is not that scientific. It is not that analytical. I wish it was, but then I'd wish too much.

I have opted out of a lot in recent years, and it's got nothing to do with personal issues with others. I just don't want to be bothered.

Stephen writes about that in the blog...some of us really do like our own company. He does not seem to unless he's busy.

I am a person that does not mind his own company, but going home to just my cats (though all know how I love them) is not good. I go home home to a shack I rent, and the devastation I plus the animals leave, well, you can imagine why I'm at my Office all the time.

The need for human contact is there, and I suppose that's why I'm here now. Problem is...I am having a very hard time interacting with the people that I SHOULD BE.

Nothing anyone's done, please understand. But I don't feel a damn thing in common with my colleagues...at all.

Is that why I write? Is that where these novels of angst, depression, abandonment and odd fantasy come from? I suppose I am writing because I am writing the world I wanted to see, and never did.

I still don't see it.

The title of the blog is from a Gordon Lightfoot song, "End of All Time." It's ended up in "The Drifters," and kind of fits. My own songs just do not for this story.

I must move on...I do at times with for the company of others, and perhaps that one that while we should not think about all the crazy stuff people do, but where is that contact, that comfort and familiarity? I don't see it here. I don't see it anywhere.

Anyway, here's what Stephen wrote:

http://www.stephenfry.com/2013/06/24/only-the-lonely/

I know how he feels. I know how my relative feels, and yet I can't even go there because I don't have that.