Daily thoughts

I was walking yesterday, to Oma's. There is a feeling of being trapped that informs my Shabbat. There are moments that Long Ridge Road is empty, but it is still very urban. There is a part of me that wants a country road, maybe even a dirt road, that wants maybe a back pack, but maybe not, that wants to walk in the silence with the quiet/sounds of nature informing the space. I had a thought about heaven just being the person to walk along that road.

I think I need to let certain things go. I think I want to take up smoking again. I miss it. I think my heart hurts. I thought yesterday I should leave a manual as to what to do when I die. I have a small unstarted journal somewhere. I'll make some notes.

“Synagogue is in ten.” It seems I start with some version of this too often. I meant to caucus with you, but chose my new friend Claude instead. We were trying to get to the book, but inside that I am writing my own personal manifesto.

It is a different kind of thinking with AI. I tell it the idea, it writes it, then I argue it out/develop it. We take it from kernel to product, I don't know if it's that much quicker, but it's more complete. I think I am less attached to certain ideas, or at least have an opportunity to noodle it. I can say, “Hey Claude, read all my stuff and produce for me a manifesto.” And then I can argue about what I really think.

It also identifies threads that are sometimes fun. One has been the idea of a witness. Life, for some of us anyway, wants to be noticed. For us, it is tragic when a life is simply erased, thrown to the curb on trash day, passed by, maybe looked at for a moment, before the trashman comes and consigns it to a landfill for eternity. It's the end of all at some point anyway. But some of us would like to strech it a little while we can.

Continue to have a good week.

Synagogue is in ten. I took a moment to row. I baked. I did laundry. I made the chopped liver. It is awesome. I had a lawyer call in the a.m. I went to Whole Foods to buy flower Lani can maybe eat a little of. I mowed the lawn, got on the support call, did the onions during that.

My dishes are clean. My kitchen is clean. My book progressed. I am broke again, even with two closings coming up, there is nothing to pay the bills.

I just sent an e-mail to my marketing people to cancel because they have been worthless. I have better avenues, and if I have to be a content creator to make anything work anyway, I'll do that on my own.

I read this and it made me cry. A lot makes me cry these days.

Have a good week.

I have once again filled the time with something other than writing you. I did successfully limit my time on X. Then I decided I needed to do a little bit of advocacy. Then I went to look at who dropped off my list. Then I looked for the head of the health committee—it changed back to Mashriki—and I searched for him. He has left my list. I tried to call. It rings until it doesn't.

He's in the building. There should be staff there. The indifferenc is overwhelming.

Just so you know, it still kills me that I seem to have a one-sided conversation with you. You must have thoughts. It would be nice if you actually organized them a little, put them down on paper, and shared them. It is almost as bad as writing to the knesset. I don't know why I torture myself.

Oh look. It is Monday. I had a very expensive Sunday. I came in to it painting, having headed over to mom's about an hour after Shabbat. I wanted to get Dahlia's room done. I did, mostly enough anyway, and got home about 24 hours ago, I think I was up a bit longer, and finally went to bed with three hours until I should wake, but I woke earlier as it was really light earlier. I wanted to get everything together anyway. I was going to pray in Bridgeport, because the Jew gun people were getting together at 9:00 in Bridgeport. I spent $49 dollars at the range, but went through another twenty dollars in ammo, easy.

And then the A/C guy came to finally install the condenser. He was really impressed. It is a really nice unit apparently, and now I have new HVAC for upstairs. I should be good for a few years.

And a client came. She's nuts, but I like her. I am afraid I am going to be burned again. And then I had a tax filing to get done. There are so many stupid little filings. This was another for the City of Bridgeport regarding the rental property.

And mom's and cards and shul for Kaddish (it's my grandfather's Yahrzeit), and I came home and turned on the computer, and Facebook had a picture of Manu from 16 years ago. I shared it again, but had nothing to comment. It hurts too much.

I wasn't going to say anything about it at Mom's, but then she mentioned that Yakov didn't know when you are getting here. I wasn't going to say anything, but I allowed that to set me off. They didn't even say hello back when I came in last night. No one thought to stop by Shabbat afternoon. No one thought to lend a hand on the painting.

I cleaned my guns and watched a movie, but that was over two hours ago. I couldn't exactly tell you what happened since then, suffice it to say nothing too useful.

Good night.