13 minutes before work

There is a weird kind of desperation on my job. Once the phone calls start, there is absolutely no creative or active playful energy because it's one call after another and I must pay attention to the client at all costs. It's a bit like driving a car. You can do it easily, but you can't keep your eyes off the road or you kill yourself. No time.

Time.

I count the minutes. It's 10:40 and in exactly 10 minutes, I must begin my foraey into listening to people complain about their rental cars. This morning, I looked over at my projects - nothing outstanding. Nothing new. Just a few little stories that I have to finish. But when I had no job, the ideas came one after another. And of course, the tragedy is that those ideas make no money. There is no way to make money with my stories. Or at least, I don't see it clearly. 

I have written a lot of stories over the years. Some I have been paid for, like the STAR ROVER and the Gary Davis story. Most, I've done because I've had to, like Lollipop and Om'Haha. 

It takes time.

It takes time to dream them up. And that time is about over right now. I have to focus on more important things. Renting cars.

I have to change my life and I am not certain how to do it yet. Rasa did a reading a few days ago and it was very clear that I must "rest" - which means not do anything harsh, not go to the states, not move into a different job, those kind of things. I must rest. 

I wrote RAGESTORM in Crestone, meditating. It was then stolen from me and made into "24 Hours Later". The concept of "fast" zombies and a zombie road-trip.  Publishing my stories on Amazon means a kind of forced copyright, so that the 24 Hours thing wont' happen again. Or will it?

Somehow, it does not matter. I write because I have to. Just like this blog. 

I didn't know what to write. Now I am writing this. 

BTW, the picture is of a cell, the best picture of a real human cell by the best microscopes. Looks like some damn city.