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Went for a quick run, with a rest in between miles to look at the bay and relax. Cool morning with few people around. Thought that I want to visit with a kayak next time and go down the bay, they have a launch point. Researched ways to put kayak on the Miata. That would be a sight. 

She scared the ever-living shit out of me. Wanted to drive me around. I couldn’t even remember where for I was too concerned with the maddening clenching of my ass cheeks. She hit the gas when she saw brake lights. She swerved when someone was near her. God forbid she try to drive between two cars. She waited until you thought it was imminent that you’d hit the car in front, just to slam on the brakes. And it did not phase her. It was as if, as if…does she always drive like this? There was nothing apologetic about the way she moved. This was war. 

We finally made it through the war zone, I think. We sat at a Hardee’s. Oh wait. How could I forget? Briefly before that she answered a phone call with much duress to me. She swerved and had to “handle” the phone with two hands it seemed. Every action she attempted to make threw us out of our lane as she jerked her hand towards her cell. She finally finished that after accidentally muting herself and panicking and focusing more on her attempted conversation than her grandson and road ahead. 

She was talking to me about something as I was texting my sister. I was telling her how I thought her husband should sell his motorcycle because of the blind, reactionless, old folks on the road. Not just the distracted texters of young…we grew up doing that and we are quite good at it by now. But Grandmother is out for manslaughter. I was about 15 words into that text to my sister before, WHAM, she smacks right into a concrete barrier and bounces off. “Damn Grandmother,” she says. “Indeed,” I agree silently. 

So we finally get to where she promised. She acted as though she was treating me…dropped herself at her bible study (early, mind you, so I have to wait even longer) and I ask her when it’ll be over so I can pick her up. “10 or 10:30,” I’m skeptical considering there is no one but the lady unlocking the building right now at 9:30 but I go drive and return at 10 (I drove around and found an outdoor gym and fucked off) only to wait until right now it’s 11 and not one soul has left the building. It’s a lovely day to be sitting in this car doing jack shit and contemplating life. 

I’m starting to really like this journal entry thing. I can type much faster than I can write, and pretty fluidly without looking, even while driving. So it allows me to think more creatively and flow very efficiently with my thoughts and stream of consciousness in a way like Jack Kerouac. 

I really feel like this writing style I’m doing now is the work of some biography or even a novel in the first person (is there such a thing?). 

The only thing holding me back is the thought that I will miss my physical journals. Should I still use those? 

Or should I just use the pocket notebooks I have in the way that I have been? Just jot bullets and to-do lists? 

This is just so convenient but I hate to be on my phone all the time….this would be very nice on a PC but I’m not sure if it’s app based and how well it works with the mobile platforms. 

She comes out and says, “you didn’t have to wait to long did you?” And I say, “I’ve been here since 10, you told me 10:30,” and she says, “oh my gosh we started at 10, we got here early!” 

Fuck. 

So I mentioned yesterday that her TV died recently, so she couldn’t wait for that one to be delivered and installed Thursday and insisted we go to Sam’s and pick one out. I said I’d go so she didn’t have to do it alone (she wouldn’t have gone alone). And I explicitly told her I didn’t want to do it. We get in there and she’s looking for a 60”… they don’t even have mf 60”s. Only 55” or 65”. So she’s whining like, “help me pickkkk!” And I said, “no this is for you and I don’t care.” So she got put off by that. I grabbed a flat cart, then started loading the one she said and she changed her mind again. 

I’m pissed by this point. 

Get to the car and move the seats and this big ass painting with a bow on it and tell her to told it. She says, “that’s a pretty picture, I love it,” like it wasn’t in her car and she’d never seen it. 

Get to the house and she’s bugging me about the pool or the beach. I said I’m gonna go to the beach. You can come if you want but I’m driving separately. She gets the hint fucking finally and I leave. Beautiful warm day out. Just cruising down the beach roads. Not too many neph-sons riding around in their tooted trucks thankfully. 

Now I’m just chilling on a lesser populated beach. I started to go to pier park’s crossroad beach but I felt I’d be too anxious with all those people. 

She was telling me about her bucket list: seven wonders of the world, up and down the coasts of Florida…I suspect they won’t happen. I said just do it. You have the freedom; retired and have money. What’s the issue? And of course she made excuses. No one sees the opportunities present to them. Even when they want the things they can opportune on, they avoid them like the plague. 

Insane. 

Told her I want to live right now because I don’t know if I have tomorrow. She thinks that means squandering all my money. Tries to tell me off because I won’t have money or something. I didn’t say blow money. I’ll be smart with it still, but honestly. I might die today. I can’t know. 

I’m at the beach now just chilling. I fell asleep. Pretty ladies all over. At least from a distance. I want to talk to them but why. They’re nothing special 3 billion plus women in the world and I feel like I need to talk to these. Well that’s about access right? Eh it’s so conflicting. If you don’t talk and you want to then you’re a bitch. If you talk to them then you’re needy. 

Sold my buddy Terry the gravel bike I ordered after he and I went to Charleston. This man has popped the tire twice and asks stupid shit like “is there something wrong with it, just be honest” then he disarms himself AFTER saying stuff like “I ran over something and it went in the tire.”

Bitch WHAT?

It’s funny I just realized that I have a rating for this day (and all days for that matter) and it’s funny because I would have probably reviewed this day as 1 star this morning (probably 2 because I wouldn’t want to be a drama queen but realistically it was a 1) but now that I’ve had a nap and chilled out (something I wouldn’t have admitted that I needed early in the day, I’m not sure why) and now I would probably rate the day 3 star with that in mind. And even now I’m wanting to bump that up to 4. And there’s no way in hell that I feel good enough (5 or above) to bump the day to a 4 but I want to be optimistic. 

Sitting outside with Grandmother talking. She’s more enjoyable this way. She said she enjoyed the pool. 

This makes me feel like I have Bipolar disorder. I’ve thought it a possibility for a while. Maybe it’s so…

This writing style is incredible. I can put down so many words so quickly. And the thought that I can print these entries with a few clicks is lovely too. Maybe I’ll start binders of a sort? 

Stream of consciousness is definitely my current style and it’s enjoyable to just grab my phone (whatever device in future) and start hammering away my ideas and thoughts and get these toxic things off my mind. 

I hope I learn quickly what metrics and things I want to keep up with, without overwhelming myself in the abilities of the app. The mood trackers, etc. will be very useful I think. I like the idea of the tags and the search functionality is A-tier (in theory, I haven’t tried it other than a vague test, yet). 

Thought the name Diarium was dumb at first explaining the app to Grandmother, until I ChatGPT’d the meaning and it explained that it’s the literal meaning of “daily journal” or “diary” in Latin. Nice. 

Love the quick ability to italicize. Makes me feel like a real writer. Damn you can insert links? Cool. I wonder if the google timeline works when you print/export. First glance it appears it doesn’t but I guess that’s the whole point of the digital copy. 

Curious of my WPM typing in this style. 

Google Timeline is so insane I love it. 

I want to try to update my day in this like every 3 hours or so and just ramble until the day is over. I could have the fullest life account record in history (besides some people who get followed by people, I guess), the most before modern day, perhaps. 

Woke up feeling my sunburn. Not bad, partially expected. 

Looked out most full accounts of people’s lives to date: found that Robert Shield wrote over 37.5 million words in 25 years. Impressive. If I keep at this: I’m at almost 1700 words today, over 2000 yesterday, every year I’ll do about 730,000 words (gah dam) and it’ll take me 51.3 years. Jesus dude that’s a LOT of writing. I need to double my word count and beat him. 5000+ words per day…I could definitely do it but that sounds intense. 

I’ve been eating like a lard lately, so I’m going for another run this evening. It feels great out. 

Sunrise (almost) and sunset runs…I need to double that every day. 

Feels great out. Made it to the same overlook point for my break after one mile as this morning. 

Perfectly facing the sunset. 

Back wasn’t hurting this morning for the run (back has been killing me on runs) but I feel it a bit right now. Granted I’m wearing vans. I knew better than to not bring real running shoes but here we are. 

Ight I’m leaving this spot prematurely. Evidently it is the massive breeding site of some flesh eating bacteria and I am the flesh. 

I can’t breathe for the cookies and Dr. Peppers I’ve stuffed down since being here. Never do that to yourself, it is not worth it. You can be the best in shape and it destroys you. I feel like dog. But it’s okay because I learn more every time I do that. 

There will not be sweets in my house. 

I always know this but I never believe it til I’m doing it again: biking. Fuck it feels amazing out here. Absolutely pristine. This smooth ass bike listening to “Soon Enough” and typing while biking. Insane. I love life right now. This is enough to make a 5 star day no doubt. 

Chillin like a mf villain. Just got a “good music” compliment. You looking for a sugar baby??

Some folks dodge me like the plague here. But others look at me like I’m their little youthful god. 

Fucking amazing feeling. Light breeze. Casual. Strolling. No rush when you’re in margaritaville bitch. 

The highs are high and the lows are low. 

This really needs a scroll down feature. 

If you didn’t know, future readers of this multimillion international best seller, Grandmother stays in an old people village. Just passed this younger lady with an old woman and had to turn around, “excuse me ma’am, I’m afraid you’re not 55+.” 

That’s what I’ve been needing all day. No stress just fun. 

Call me the pimp of the playground. God I want people to read this shit before I die. This would be hilarious to hear other people read this to me. I’d be like, “I said that shit??”

How are these people going to ignore a direct wave? Fuck you. 

Respectfully. 

Where’s the ragers?? I know you old codgers just have to have pineapples on your door somewhere. 

Nobody’s outside. I wanna socialize so fucking bed it’s driving me mad. 

I’m tired of doing things just for the story. I do them in a sense by thinking what would be entertaining to others. I need to think of what’s entertaining to me. That innately makes for an entertaining story as we have seen from experience…

I love life. Come back to this one if you need inspiration. Birth of the inspiration tag. 

Out living the old people in their own private, anal, community. 

Ben is here for dinner. Hamburger steaks. 

Ben had an ND Miata. He said it was not the car for down here (the beach). And I’m thinking it’s the car for down here. But he elaborates and explains that it needs hills and curves. Ahh he saves himself. 

Ben is a kind guy (I know it’s hard to read my ambiguous sarcasm through text (he is a nice guy he’s just blunt and I can see he grinds Grandmother’s nerves)). He tells Grandmother about her messes and things that I know bothers her. Tells her he can’t hear her, “speak up!” How does one do that more tactfully, I don’t know, but it seems that bothers her and I’m not sure if he recognizes it. She’s so tense when he’s around. 

Should I stick around? There’s not much I want to do right now, or any of the old people for that matter, it’s cold outside and dark. So I’m just going to read and write. Her TV is still down. Maybe she’ll get Ben and I to put the new one up. (Doubt). 

Hamburger steak and baked (then microwaved because it wasn’t done on time) potato was good. Lots of onion, my favorite. 

These old folks can’t communicate two sentences without saying “I can’t hear you” and it completely kills the speaker. 

She doesn’t even know she doesn’t hear sometimes. 

I’ve got to keep myself away from the beach when I’m alone. It makes me horny and more alone feeling. God it’s depressing. 

I want to talk to people then realize I’m sitting there alone wishing I was with people and it is a dirty cycle that screams “LONER!”

Ben left to check on his dawg. Grandmother’s playing music. I’m just lounging and reading “Vagabonding” by Rolf Potts. I really enjoy their take on travel. I see myself following a lot of this advice (and already have done some of these things).

I have a strong urge to have a game night. None of my friends beyond JD and Ryan are reliable enough to set one up and I just see it causing issues; but I’ll still try. 

I’d like to hang out with a black family and play games again like at Kedric’s party. 

Or at Yellowstone. It just causes too many issues with my family when we play. It’s not enjoyable unless I’m in the best of moods. 

I want to publish these things. Actively. I feel that people may be entertained. 

Should I change names? Or just my own? 

How should I do it…

Sam sounds interested in the Cuba bikepacking. Maybe I can talk him in to it…

I’m so excited…I started my word press on rawjournal.blog with the help of chatGPT (love you Chad). I hope this is what I dream it is. 

I am going through some things to limit my offense to people-that I know-obviously it being called “raw” you’d expect it to be straight to the point, and it is. I’m only changing people’s names so you can’t find them unless you know exactly who they are already. I don’t want to invade their privacies. Also it’s not the best topically for them to read some of the things I say about them, probably. 

If they find this, they find it, whoops. 

I just know this is what I need to do. This doesn’t even feel like work I enjoy this shit. Should I stop cussing now that I’m “publishing”? Nahhh it’s called raw for a reason! 

This is a beaut. Thank you inspiration. Why did I do this? 

First step, I didn’t want to lug a diary in Europe when bikepacking.

Step 2, I wanted to write stream of consciousness style in the car (yes it’s 10x safer than physically writing. Trust me). It’s also faster than writing. 

Step 3, I want to write a book.

Step 4, I was thinking I want to entertain and I find myself entertaining. I want to produce and and I already produce, why not share it? And I want financial independence. 

I’m trying to remember the aha moment, it was only minutes (hours by now) ago that I decided to make this site and I can’t remember what exactly blew me over the edge. 

In English class I always wondered why we had to analyze these things that authors said, vague as they were to our (at least my) simple minds…now I see it. They weren’t special in the sense that they sat down and thought about the shit they were going to say. They literally just had the thought and wrote it (a lot of times, maybe, I may be completely wrong). Like me now, this would be considered a unique writing style I’m sure and it doesn’t make me special. It’s just because I’m different and have gone through different experiences so we write differently. It’s just how people interpret it and value it that makes authors different and subjectively better.  

If I write only 2,000 words per day. That’s the equivalent (by word count) of writing around 7 novels per year. Interesting.

Today ends up being a 5 star for the amazing turn around. It is amazing how the ending of a day can change your perspective and be blind to past pain. I love my life and self and if I’m being honest the max I should rate it is 4 star but what kinda pessimist are you anyway? 

All I can say is exercise, talk to people, and do what you love to do. Mine is writing and thankfully the previous two things. 

I’d like to track water intake and other stuff too but we will get to that! 

I feel like I have to write EVERYTHING now. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. 

Reading Vagabonding, feel like I’m highlighting at least every other paragraph. It’s intensely awesome. 

I’m conflicted with whether I can or should share this with people I know, with people of whom I’ve written. 

Diary statistics on this app is so clever and interesting for the long term. Thank you. 

I need to watch a movie to get my mind occupied and out of itself. 

Should I continue my Goodreads or just post book reviews here? That’ll come with time I reckon. 

Automate the publishing of these entries. Write the code to scan the document for names and change them accordingly. Report an error if there’s a name with no pseudonym option. 

Fun project.