What do I want to do today?

What do I want to do today?

Write.

Not eat meat.

Go to the old SGI Community Center at 4:00 to help the move; I probably cannot join in the physical moving with the other men, but at least to "support", as we say, and to see the new Community Center now all but completed.

I woke up at 3:00 this morning, the ThinkBright channel was running a documentary on Film Noir. Inspired me to - right then - pop open the DarkRoom program (an emulation of the 1980's simple word processor screens) and write up a few lines, of an argument between Ron and Trish in my "The Detective's Secretary" play.

All I want to do it write.

But something is feeling missing, at least when I imagine it. Or someone. It just seems so frighteningly empty. I want there to be a woman padding around the place, or at least away at work, when I write. I want a dog curled up next to the desk near my feet. I want the phone to be ringing, interrupting me, my agent or a producer. I want a laptop to carry under my arm into The Spot, to sit there in public in the doldrums of the afternoon. I want to be waiting for an email of a plane ticket from a theater in Charlotte so I can be there for final rehearsals and opening night.

This is the kind of life many men lead.

The life they create for themselves.

I do not know why I can't just get off my ass, turn off the distractions -- the television, the PalTalk rooms, the food -- for four fucking hours and just start creating this life for myself. (See below, about such a sea change.)