Fleur De Los

Photo by Jonathan Bachman

I don’t sleep half as much as I should. Same goes for writing. I sit, dick around on the same dozen Web sites looking for something, anything, to get me going. As if reading something about the NBA Finals or some argument for or against Obama’s policies in the Middle East is going to light a spark in my brain and <poof!> here comes the next F. Scott Fitzgerald! Cept he’s Latino and he writes on the internet only every so often for little if no pay and has bags under his eyes.

Almost as if he doesn’t get enough sleep…

It’s not like I don’t try. I lie in bed and close my eyes and try to think of nothing in particular. Sometimes I try to meditate or just try to count to 10 in my head without being interrupted by stray thoughts (try it sometime, it’s much harder than you think). I try masturbating or making up some dream for myself. I try looking for the coolest part of the bed or wrap myself completely in my sheets or use my dog as a body pillow — he usually pulls away before I can get to sleep.

Dogs have it so easy. They fall asleep and wake up just like that. It’s cause they don’t have anything to to really, no commitments, no responsibilities. I think to much about what I have to do and what I want to do. I’m not worried, just excited. There’s so much to do and so many ways to do it. But I probably spend more time reading about other people doing things in cool new ways than doing it myself.

Or do I?

Brass band documentary starts filming soon. Got a couple of stories coming up for Gambit and a part time job covering the courts. Every day is a struggle to spend enough energy to go to sleep so tired that I can’t think anymore. Sometimes that’s hard. It’s very exciting to live in New Orleans.