Inspiration comes best from all back alleys...or bad physical states mixed with good mental states

today I got up with the intention of reading and writing ALL day. I woke up at 10 am! which is early for me...got all the bullshit out of the way in 1 hour and was out the door... but it was so FUCKING hot I couldn't concentrate, thought maybe I had heat exhaustion, probably didn't drink enough water...was getting tired and so lethargic I thought I should just drink a shit ton of coffee and make it iced to cool down...had some cigarettes for fun but it wasn't fun in the heat...kept going into the freezer section at QFC sticking my head into the ice cream door to cool down...all this all this made me tired so tired...went to the park sweaty couldn't sleep tried to pass out heaving exhaustion...probably didn't drink enough water felt like blacking out constantly but couldn't cause I ddrank too much coffee.....went back home to try to pass out and not have to worry about all my shit getting stolen..still couldn't sleep cause of all that coffee but was so tired decided to go for some porn due to hallucinating some metaphor of desert and sex, or just the latent tie-in of languid dull idiotic states and dumb bliss pleasures like masturbation, but still was too tired anyway....too tired for anything and still couldn't sleep...

well, but, well! when I finally recovered after lying down in my room with movies and water and fan on full blast, I tried to write but couldn't, brain still melted from the sun though my body felt more or less normal, I decided to watch another movie--besides Naked Lunch which I had just watched--which was THE ADJUSTMENT BUREAU, which I felt bad about because I told myself I would be writing ALL day today but haven't yet got a single word down and only read 3 pages of LIE DOWN IN DARKNESS the book I'm reading too, so I says to myself, I says, okay, I'll just watch about 15 minutes of this movie and try to write or read again...well needless to say the whole movie goes by, or nearly the whole movie, 1 hour and 16 minutes to be exact, because right at that moment, and it's been building up to this point throughout the whole amazingly engaging movie, I know something, I understand something, it has been made clearer, or clear enough, of what the ending to my novel will be like! the ideas have been laid bare, stripped by three key things--Time of the Assassins, a study of Arthur Rimbaud by henry miller, History of ART by elie faure, and the adjustment bureau...(coincidence plays a facile part in my wonder of how perfect these works, and few others, have engaged in the conversation my own novel is bringing to life, or I could say instead, sewing together, a mere combination of previous ideas into my own sort of cohesion). I started writing...............and the horrible day of mishaps blossomed in the end...its fucking hilarious how it happens like that...(and other days when I can actually stay in one place all day, sitting at the computer or with a book I probably get the same amount of work done as I did today anyway, I fuck around with distractions so much I guess all that matters is to keep the ideas stewing in the brain rather than SPECIFICALLY sit down and try to beat it out of yourself)

well shit. I kind of forgot where I was at. maybe I said all that I needed to say, maybe all that shit above doesn't make an ounce of sense, I'm too lazy to go back and read it. Now, instead, I'm gonna drop a bomb on you, the one I intended to drop on you anyway before I spontaneously started to type out all this about my day. I present you with! the outline to my novel! It's a fucking mess, and I think it's awesomely terribly hilarious that way, and wanted at least to send it out to someone...well well well! as for me, I'm done now and gonna watch the ending to that movie. I hope it doesn't suck.