newxdiary

[newxdiary]

—The Monthly Come From-Behind Race to Make Rent without getting a Pawn Shop Loan—

March 3, 2024

Coffee Time: 7:00 pm

The Who—THE WHO SELL OUT U2—BOY Nirvana—IN UTERO

It’s here. The day when I wake up well rested, with the time to spare to get to work reasonably early. Who knows if that will happen. I’m open to every distraction possible. It’s time to wonder if I haven’t always suffered from some kind of attention deficit disorder.  I started to read the article in the times about how the Supreme Court seems poised to rule on Trump’s eligibility to remain on the ballot in Colorado. I couldn’t get past the first paragraph before my emotions surged and made me leap up from my chair and flee the computer. I still haven’t gotten back to the article.

I started writing a new long poem yesterday, but I can’t find it on my One Note app, at least I can’t find it on this computer. I still have to work on revising the first one. I changed the title of the first one from “Nightshifters Epic” to “Lives lived in the Dark.” I doubt I’ll keep that title. The first poem needs some heavy revising, and I’m not so sure it doesn’t need more sections. The goal is not to abandon it.

I’m ending this here because my head is mostly empty and I really mean to get out in the cab and get working.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

--The 24th Came And Went, and all I got for my birthday was Post-Nasal Drip—

February 28, 2024

Coffee Time: 6:45 pm

The Police--REGGATTA DE BLANC The Cure—FAITH

In this era of self-employment, getting sick for even a few days is catastrophic. I took last Saturday off for my birthday, and after breakfast, I found myself immersed in a cold. Not a heavy one, but big enough that I couldn’t ignore. I went through each day since, only for it to get worse. Today it’s on the margin of recovery, but I can’t decide it it isn’t too soon to go back to driving. Money-wise it’s way overdue. I’m totally out of cash. I’m in that ugly spot where I have to hit a home run every night to survive.

#diary of the the new mr. x #diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

--Our Era is quite “mid.”—

February 19, 2024

Coffee Time: 10:46 pm

Miles Davis—ASCENCEUR POUR L’ESCHAFAUD Neil Young—MASSEY HALL Buffalo Springfield—BUFFALO SPRINGFIELD AGAIN Mott The Hoople-THE HOOPLE Sun Ra—SPACE IS THE PLACE

Day off. I checked my e-mail and found that my driver account is $700 in the negative. Fuck. For that highly suspicious brake job. I put off thinking about it. Best thing to do. I headed out to eat on the outside, and I went to get soup and some coffee at the bipartisan café. I opted for the cup of soup which was easily the smallest amount of soup I had ever seen served. It was good, but it was basically a ramekin of soup. I opted for the cup so as to eat something more substantial down the line. I have to wonder, do people eat portions like this and go through their day satisfied?

I was going to force myself to take pictures, but when I turned my camera on, I saw that I didn’t have much battery life left. That’s ok. I was likely heading for disappointment. I had no clue as to what I was going to photograph. So, I went with Option B, find a white necktie. I went to the Lloyd Center, as I had heard it had some kind of interesting, community based secondary life to it. More Portland overhyped bullshit. Yes, there were all sorts of community and independent stores, that weren’t even open before 5 pm. Why is this city so fucking lazy. It has been this was for at least as long as I’ve been here. The biggest disappointment was to discover that Spencer’s Gifts were gone. Spencer’s is the canary in the coalmine of mall rat culture. Instead, there was some bullshit shop that had a sign that read, “Spencer’s Was Mid.” The culture of this generation sucks. They’re pretty much a bunch of cunts. There I’ve said it.

On the positive note, I did find a cool little vintage shop, which had a great collection of ties, all priced at $9. I bought three—none of them were solid white, but each passed muster as having enough white to present the way I wanted them to.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

--Everything Seems OK, which is a cause for dread--

February 15, 2024

Coffee Time: 8:37 pm

Black Sabbath—BLACK SABBATH Split Enz—TRUE COLORS

Actually, everything is not ok. I made a tomahawk steak for the Super Bowl, and of course I cut off small pieces and fed it to Louie. A piece of steak has been stuck in his esophagus ever since. He’s breathing, and he’s getting down small bits of food, but the blockage persists. I doubt I can afford a vet visit to dislodge it. And I hate myself and I hate them. I love Louie, and he’s soldiering on.

I’m cooking nine sausage soup. I’ve been feeling physically depleted lately. I get very tired after very little effort. Don’t know what it is. It can’t be good.

I’ve vowed this year to stay positive and not give into my own personal superstition that I’ve been cursed. After Louie’s choking incident, and the one time I left the house to toss some garbage in the dumpster, I stepped in dog shit that happened to have been left in a common pathway and tracked it into the apartment, I’m having a hard time convincing myself that’s true.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

--HIS NUTS ARE HANGING OUT THE WINDOW--

December 10, 2023

Coffee Time: 8:04 p.m.

Hank Williams, HIS 20 GREATEST HITS The Rolling Stones, OUT OF OUR HEADS

There are days that you dread your whole life and there are events that you hope will never come, even though you know they must. The death of Charles G. Darmstadt was one of those events. Charles was the father to my best friend, Chip. He was slightly older than my own father, but energetic, and funny as hell; his seriousness was there but, undetectable in a flurry of antic, humorous gestures, and sayings: you might have thought he wasn’t serious at all, but in all the clowning around, inappropriate jokes and goofing off, somehow the lawn wound up getting mowed. He was fun to be around. I could do yard work at his house for 4 hours and barely stand doing any chores at home.

On long car trips from Long Island to Vermont, we would ride for about 8 hours, listening to Hank Williams Greatest Hits, on an 8-track tape over and over again. The fact that it wore us out was a source of great humor to him. He took us bass fishing in Vermont, where I learned to fish with lures. I think of those trips at their almost finished cabin on the shores of Lake Bomoseen. I was lucky that they liked me, as I must have been a clumsy pain in the ass with no money. He found the humor in anything, and you learned to find it too. He was so many things my own father wasn’t. I loved my own father but most of my time spent around my father involved walking on egg-shells. No one walked on eggshells around Mr. Darmstadt.

I don’t think I ever saw him angry. He knew how to take care of himself. When I visited, he would sit in the kitchen, next to the telephone and let it ring. He had no intention of answering it, and if the ringing was bothering him, it never showed on his face. His wife or his son would have to come from another room to answer the phone, while he just sat there reading the paper and smoking his Kent Cigarettes. Strangely, he often answered the phone when I called.

He had this invincible ability to say anything he felt like, often to someone’s face, no matter how inappropriate. You wouldn’t dare repeat the things he said: you weren’t him and you would pay full price for the offense.

I’m still trying to sort out how I feel about his passing. When I saw that Chip had posted on facebook that he had died, I immediately went out to the record store and bought a Hank Williams album. I had to.

The other day as I was coming back from the store, one of his sayings popped into my head for some reason: “Your nuts are hanging out the window.” I thought about it for awhile, pondering if it meant anything other than “you’re crazy.” I heard it so much, I’ve always wanted to say it to people who never heard it before, but they would never understand. I might have even tried to in college.

I last saw him some time in the mid-80’s. I regret that. The truth is that I had always wished he had been my father. Something I knew inside but felt terribly ashamed of.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

December 6, 2023

Coffee Time: 7:32 p.m.

The Cure, THREE IMAGINARY BOYS (SIDE2)

Rosemary Clooney, FOR THE DURATION

I’ve got rent covered, and my SNAP benefits come available at 5 a.m. tomorrow. We’re in the midst of a rainy period. The Weather Bureau refers to is as an “atmospheric river.” Such a stupid term. Innovation in so many ways is overrated. Rain like this is nothing new, just the terminology is. We are in the age of insufferable twats.

WE ARE IN THE AGE OF INSUFFERABLE TWATS!

I may be verging on self-destructive behavior, socially speaking. Nothing violent, just me destroying myself with the things I say out loud and online. The point isn’t to self-immolate, but to contribute my point of view. I don’t know if I’m right, but I feel like I am. I don’t like the way people think, and I don’t want to keep that quiet.

Fundamentalism noun fun·da·men·tal·ism ˌfən-də-ˈmen-tə-ˌli-zəm

1 A. often capitalized : a movement in 20th century Protestantism emphasizing the literally interpreted Bible as fundamental to Christian life and teaching B. the beliefs of this movement C.adherence to such beliefs a minister noted for his strict fundamentalism

2 a movement or attitude stressing strict and literal adherence to a set of basic principles Islamic fundamentalism political fundamentalism fundamentalist ˌfən-də-ˈmen-tə-list noun fundamentalist adjective or fundamentalistic ˌfən-də-ˌmen-tə-ˈli-stik

...And of course, the significance of this is that progressives on the left have been creating an ad-hoc type of fundamentalism that structures progressive principles in a dogmatic fashion that is every bit as obnoxious and restrictive as and form of religious fundamentalism. They’re too stupid to figure out that it’s just as bad.

Today on THREADS, the social media app that is competing with the failing “x” (formerly twitter) some dumb ass photographer posted a theory that street photography shouldn’t be practiced because it exploits the homeless. This generation of Moral Busy Bees needs to have their socks stuffed in their mouths. Street photography involves taking candid shots very often. Only a total jack ass would suggest restricting it. For the record I take many photographs of the homeless.

I shall be the heretic I was always meant to be.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

This Entry is out of order

July 2, 2023

Coffee Time: 7:57 p.m.

Talk Talk, TALK TALK Led Zeppelin, LED ZEPPELIN II Spirit, THE FAMILY THAT PLAY TOGETHER Spiritualized, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WE ARE FLOATING IN SPACE/br>

The coffee is near perfect, but I forgot to buy more cream this morning. Since I’m always travelling with a couple of pistols and my camera gear, stopping off at a store isn’t something I feel too comfortable doing. Cars used to get broken into too often before the pandemic era crime wave.

Too much has happened, so I’m not going to try too hard to sum up the intervening time between posts. One of us was murdered on Easter Sunday. Stabbed in the neck by some scumbag. Horrible. Some cabs are having barriers installed between the front and rear seats.

Within the last month or so, I drove a coffee rep from the Society Hotel to PDX. We talked coffee, and when I told him how sometimes I make a perfect pot of coffee, but often it comes out bland. He gave me some pointers. Here they are: French Press

Get the water to almost boiling (bring it to a boil and then take it off the burner and let the temperature sink back down.

Grind the beans at the coarse setting

Pour just enough hot water on the beans to get them all wet but leave them as a low layer of mud. This will give the beans time to aspirate all of the co2 that the hot water releases

Wait 20 to 30 seconds and then fill the carafe the rest of the way with hot water. I haven’t made a bad cup of coffee since.

I started a business enterprise known as the Doodles of John W. Hopkins—Master Doodler. I’ve sold $150 dollars’ worth of Ipad “doodles,” so far. I feel like a fraud. I mean, it’s not that they aren’t good drawings, it’s just that I don’t feel like I’m an artist.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

November 16, 2023

Coffee Time: 3:39 p.m.

The Ramones, TOO TOUGH TO DIE Led Zeppelin, LED ZEPPELIN Crosby, Stills and Nash, CROSBY, STILLS AND NASH The Rolling Strones, HACKNEY DIAMONDS Tom Waits, THE BLACK RIDER Crucified Class, CRUCIFIED CLASS r.e.m. RADIO FREE EUROPE The Kinks, KWYET KINKS

Some things left alone are never meant to be left to die. This is one of them.

back from an expensive weekend in the DC suburbs in Virginia to see my niece, Erin, married. It was a refreshing visit, and it was a joy to see my family and to meet her extended family, although I had met some of them before in Sayville. I couldn’t afford the trip and my efforts to raise extra money didn’t pan out. So, I sold my guns. All the same, I racked up a huge debt to Erin, which I’m not dealing with emotionally, suffice it to say that it involves very thorny feelings.

I need to renew my health insurance and my food stamps. Those are some more thorny feelings. First attempt and it requires me to set a new password. Doesn’t like my first password, so it makes me do it again. Through some unfortunate glitch, it doesn’t accept the second password and now I’m blocked. This high tech culture we’ve created sucks. It’s overly complicated and it delivers badly in nearly every area. Moreover, it continues to displace the human service method.

Ok, got through all the thorny online stuff. Applications for Food Stamps and Health Insurance have been completed and submitted. Let’s hope it all goes off without a hitch.

Time for work. I am tentatively planning to work the airport tonight. For starters, business has been so bad before bar-time, that it hardly matters what I do. Secondly, having flown in on Tuesday night, no Radio Cabs were available. I took a Broadway Cab and I was royally ripped off. It cost me $50 to get home, a distance that barely adds up to $25 in a Radio. But, the real reason for working it is that, without us having any presence at all, the main introduction to Taxis in Portland are these rip-off artists who never care about how much damage they’re doing.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

56 + one day

February 25, 2023

Coffee Time: 6:58 p.m.

Joni Mitchell, FOR THE ROSES Elvis Presley, ELVIS PRESLEY

More from How I am:

My brother Michael and I shared a bedroom. It was terrible. We fought it ought every night. My parents didn’t have any sympathy for us. They grew up during the depression and the war and  so they didn’t even have their own beds. We fought every night until my father came into the room in a rage. The fear of my father would get us to quit for awhile, but we would soon start back up. The last thing I said before falling asleep most nights was, “no, you shut up.” The phrase I had probably said to Michael the most was, “No, you shut up.”

I was in denial about my father’s alcoholism, but not my brother's. There’s nothing noble about this, the rivalry is probably all that spurred me on to accept this truth. I was insecure and desperate for an advantage, but realizing his alcohol problems also horrified me. Buried under the antagonism was a love for Michael that was expressed only in my mind in the form of grief. I was worried about him and helpless to help him.

I can’t keep on this path here, I do not intend to tell my history as it’s long and tedious and should feel like a dull trip on a bus where you hit every light. Yesterday, I took a bus from downtown and it took a detour that got it stuck at a rail crossing where two freight trains transited, forcing us to wait.

My sister is my only surviving family. I love her, she has three kids and a husband, all of whom I also love.

Now:

I take 8 pills a day for diabetes and high blood pressure. Three are vitamins, one is baby aspirin, and the others are prescriptions: the usual ones. I wear glasses and have been for about 8 to 10 years now. (time flies)

I have a full set of hair. I got all my teeth, although who knows for how long. I’m super heavy and I’m in danger of growing out of my most expensive clothes. I stand 6 feet tall.

I aspire to be an artist as a photographer. I love music, art, poetry, and history. I love cooking and food. I love cats, but I also love dogs. I have one plant named Larry. My money comes from driving a wheelchair taxi at night.

I’m bad at throwing things away, I’m bad at relationships. I don’t date, although I’m not against it. I feel like I’ve nearly lost all of my friends. Not to disputes but the inconveniences of coordinating lifestyles. I work nights. I try making new friends, but I found that was hard after age 30, let alone age 50. I’m judgmental most of the time. Sometimes I try to catch myself, but most times I don’t. I’m glad I don’t have the bomb.

I aspire to be a good person, but looking back, I’ve realized I’ve mostly been a selfish person. After all this introspection, I’ve come to realize that I’m like everybody else.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

56

February 24, 2023

Coffee Time: 8:17 PM

Pink Floyd, RELICS Dave Alvin, ELEVEN Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, LET LOVE IN Jesus and Mary Chain, PSYCHOCANDY

It’s come. My 56th birthday.

So, this is a bit of how I am.

I was born on Ash Wednesday in the winter of 1967. I think I remember my family watching the moon landing, but I would have been two. The only reason I think I might is that I once found a tv guide from that week which seemed to trigger a memory. That said, I don’t trust my mind that much. I’m drinking my coffee out of my mother’s mug from when she worked at the IRS. It’s taking me five decades to realize that my birthday is as much about her as it is about me. I miss her. She died in 2010. I wish I was a better son. I hate that I can’t fix that. I was with her when she died. I made the decision to have her taken off life support. When they did, her vitals crashed rapidly except for her heart which was being driven by a pacemaker. The nurse took a magnet and held it over the spot in her chest where the pacemaker was blipping life on. The pacemaker shut down and she died. Death is real and grotesque, even when it ends quietly in a hospital room. I’m named for my father, somewhat against his wishes. I loved my father, but I couldn’t connect with him. I wanted to. He died two months after my mother did. He confessed to me before he died that he felt that he didn’t give much consideration to removing my brother from life-support in 1999, when Michael was dying of lymphoma. It was a conversation that I failed to pick up on at the time. I only reassured him that I gave the hospital every encouragement to save my mother. They couldn’t save her, and I doubt that Cabrini could have saved Michael either, even if my Dad had implored them to try. I remember that I had gone down to the street for a smoke and when I came back they had already decided to remove Mike from life support. I was suspicious at the time.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

FAILURES AS A DIARIST

February 21, 2023

Coffee Time: 4:34 p.m.

The Stranglers, DARK MATTERS

The Police, SYNCHRONICITY

The Police, GHOST IN THE MACHINE

The Police, ZENYATTA MONDATTA

I’ve failed to keep up with this for too long. Wasn’t my intent. I’m coming on a near month with only taking one day off, so if that helps explain my habits, then it’s an important part of the record.

So, what’s going on now? Was in danger of losing my apartment due to chronically late rent. That precipitated a near 30-day marathon of work. I changed my strategy for driving. I’m forcing myself to run for orders, and I’m forcing myself to take more orders than not. It’s working, I’ve been grossing over $300 most shifts. I was motivated to this when I had to pawn my camera to cover my rent check. I got the camera back out of hock in two days, but that was too much for me.

Tonight, I plan to work a final shift before I give myself a 3-day weekend. After all, it’s my 56th birthday on Friday.

The day before yesterday, a blister showed up under my right armpit. Quite painful. I burst it several times, but it keeps returning.

Yesterday, I paid off the loan on my revolver and got that out of hock. What a process that turned out to be. If I need another loan, I won’t be using a gun to get it. I got two bills to get out from under. One is the electric bill and the other is my wifi. Yeesh. I got two more items in the Silver Linings Pawn shop, my Macro lens and my 24 to 70 zoom. I hope to liberate both.

I promised to send some artwork to Fred and to Jen. I hope to get on that tomorrow. I want to buy packing material at Blick’s tomorrow.

#diary of the the new mr. x #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night

[newxdiary]

TOO LONG WITH LITTLE TO SAY

December 29, 2022

Coffee Time: 6:11 p.m.

Ian and Sylvia, FOUR STRONG WINDS

Ian and Sylvia and the Great Speckled Bird, YOU WERE ON MY MIND

Mama’s and The Papa’s, FAREWELL TO THE FIRST GOLDEN ERA

Simon and Garfunkel, BOOKENDS

The Cure, SEVENTEEN SECONDS

Things have fallen by the wayside. I’ve tried to work as much as possible this month, but the business wasn’t there the way it should have been. I hope next year is a good year, but it doesn’t look so good so far.

When I woke up today, I found out that Pele and Ian Tyson had both died. I’ve been listening to folk music since I got the news.

Christmas came and went. I spent Christmas by myself, and I enjoyed it. I worked (we had an ice storm, so I worked even more than normal.) I did well, and I turned a deficit to Radio Cab back into the black. I ordered a Benedictine Monk’s Habit and it arrived the other day.

So, I’ve been a weirdo my whole life. Why worry about that now?

Tonight’s Reading 1. Seven of Pentacles. 2. King of Swords. 3. Nine of Pentacles. Having felt like an assemblage of Loose Ends, this reading gives me some validation. The Seven Pentacles suggests that my expectation to do for myself reflects who I basically am. The King of Swords reaffirms this, and the Nine of Pentacles recommends some recreation. I have been planning to do a photo shoot at the coast on New Year’s Eve, Weather Permitting. I’m desperate to restart my photography.

Two commanding obligations. Get Sean repaid and get my revolver out of the Pawn Shop (this is in progress; it’s just held up by an extremely long background check waitlist.)

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

—LEAVING IT ALL TO CHANCE (IN A WAY)—

November 26, 2022

Coffee Time: Came and went before 7:50 p.m. Spiritualized, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WE ARE FLOATING IN SPACE Spirit, SPIRIT The Police, GHOST IN THE MACHINE Depeche Mode, MUSIC FOR THE MASSES.

Tonight, I dressed myself entirely by coin flip:

Heads—overalls, Tails—trousers: Trousers

Heads—dress shirt, Tails—t–shirt: T–shirt

Heads—grey shirt, Tails—Red: Grey

Heads—boots, Tails—shoes: Shoes

Heads—patterned socks, Tails—solid color: Patterned Socks

Heads—neckerchief, Tails—no: No

Heads—pocket square, Tails—no: No

Heads—Derby Hat, Tails—soft hat: Derby

Heads—Brown, Tails—Black: Black Hat

I am wearing khaki trousers, a grey t-shirt, blue striped socks, red doc martens, blue socks with grey stripes and a black derby hat.

Last night, I went through the tarot deck and arranged all of the cards to be upright. I may have interfered in the spirt world in a way that is offensive.

Tonight’s reading: First—The Hanged Man jumped out of the deck. It suggests that struggling anymore won’t result in anything. 1. Queen of Wands 2. The Hanged Man (again) 3. Three of Pentacles. Tonight’s reading has very positive elements. My person is strong, and I project leadership qualities and wisdom out to others. My self-consciousness suggests I should abandon the struggle about who I am and simply accept it. The Subconscious suggests that I should show off what I do.

Oh, one more coin flip: Heads—round glass frames, Tails—square frames: Square Frames.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

—EXTRA INNINGS—

November 21, 2022

Coffee Time: 7:31 p.m. A Flock of Seagulls, A FLOCK OF SEAGULLS B52’s, B52’S

Last night was unspeakably slow. So slow that I have to work tonight. Enough said. My sleep troubles have persisted, although today wasn’t as bad as other days during the past week. Took a health walk all the way down to Division and back. Went down 78th avenue, rather that 80th. It felt like an entirely new place, even though it’s just a block or two over. (79th avenue doesn’t seem to exist between Alder and Division.)

Tonight’s Reading: 1. The Devil (reverse) 2. The Lovers (Reverse) 3. Strength (reverse) The cards were attempting to leap out during the shuffle. I shuffled more times than normal on account of this. The devil in reverse suggests that I am someone who has survived themselves. The Lover’s upside down suggests that my inclinations as a thrill seeker will undo me. Strength upside down. Suggests that I’m dealing with power plays etc. In my psyche I’m at war with who I am.

I was thinking about how we’ve been having more earthquakes than normal lately. I think we’re due for that big one. The cards don’t bear that out though.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

—NO MOON IS EVERY BIT AS BAD AS A BAD MOON—

November 20, 2022

Coffee Time: 10:17 Betty Everett, THE BEST OF BETTY EVERETT The Marvelettes, GREATEST HITS Nina Simone, WILD IS THE WIND

Woke up too early. Took the opportunity to get out and make sure I had cat food on hand for Louis. Wound up heading for KFC but stopped at WinCo Foods on Powell and 82nd. I got an unbelievably good parking spot. I got the makings for chicken quesadillas, as well as potato salad and JoJo’s. I've got to conserve the cash on hand, and I can buy most of that on my Oregon Trail card.

Last night was decent, and I paid out to my overdrawn bank account. I got to keep going. Starting late tonight, due to getting back to sleep and sleeping through to nine pm. This always happens.

Tonight’s Reading: 1. Five of Swords. 2. Knight of Swords (reverse) 3. King of Cups (reverse) A good reading of bad portents. The five of swords coming in my Superconscious spots suggests a calculated, ruthless nature. Perhaps that recently overused term, narcissism. (wait, I better get the book before I write anymore of this) Ok, I read the book. Is that accurate? Seems so.

So, the Knight of swords in reverse, occupying my self-conscious spot suggests I’m distracted and struggling rashly. Suggests that I can’t listen of maybe even can’t hear. Given the money mission right now, I could truck with the notion that everything out of that focus isn’t respected. If this characterizes anything it characterizes my photography block, which is real and terrible.

Lastly King of Cups in reverse, in my subconscious spot the taste of power has you hungry for more. Prone to manipulation or abuse. I’m thinking tonight’s reading is a loud shriek at a perceived threat that isn’t really there. Does it ring true? Only in the mildest sense. That or this paragraph is the succinct denial of a true narcissist.

Tonight's moon is a new moon, I'm sure.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

—TRANSMISSIONS—

November 19, 2022

Coffee Time: 5:32 p.m.

Aretha Franklin, ARETHA NOW Black Sabbath, PARANOID Milt Jackson, MILT JACKSON Radiohead, AMNESIAC

Woke up with a feeling of having caught up on sleep. I dreamt I got in a fist fight with the guy who was in the Warriors and 48 hours. Funny thing is I never saw the warriors. He punched me in the face and scratched my glasses. I fought back and he gave in. Seemed to be the point of the dream. Very vivid. Can’t understand why that guy would pop up in my dream. He was dressed in the wardrobe he wore in 48 hours. A bit actor playing a bit part in a movie that was good in it’s time.

Tonight’s Reading: 1. The Hermit (reverse) 2. The Devil (reverse) 3. Six of Cups (reverse) OK. For starters these cards are popping up reverse too much. Obviously, something wrong in the card handling department. The hermit upside down is bad. Deep debilitating, blinding depression. The Devil upside down in the self-conscious spot suggests an awareness of surviving trauma etc. The Six of Cups upside down is also bad. Bad reading bad life. I’m going to deal with the upside-down problem with the deck. Give a grandiose shuffle and do it again.

Tonight’s Reading (redone) 1. Page of Cups 2. Seven of Pentacles (reverse) 3. Seven of Swords. OK. This is acceptable. I reshuffled the car in such a way as to mix them in direction. I separated them into smaller piles with I spun clockwise several times before re-collating them. I then shuffled them in the standard way. All positive this time. The page of cups suggests confidence and originality. The Reverse seven of pentacles suggest I cannot rely only on myself. The seven of swords suggests that I am getting away with it all. In relation to my cab driving career, perhaps that suggests that the dependence I have on a loan coming through will be an almost undeserved stroke of luck. (it’s taking way, way long) The only thing I really know is that I need to get out there and start driving.

I’m waiting on Charlie to get back to me as to which loaner I will be driving tonight. A clear reminder that everything is in flux in a just surviving, subsisting mode of living. My account has been overdrawn. I’ve been waiting on a loan to fix the transmission in 217. I owe, owe and owe some more.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary

[newxdiary]

—THE SLEEPLESSNESS OF THE LIVING—

November 18, 2022

Coffee Time: 9:53 Bauhaus, BURNING FROM THE INSIDE Clan of Xymox, MEDUSA

Tonight’s Reading: 1. The High Priestess (reverse) 2. Ten of Pentacles 3. Strength (reverse)

If I have to interpret tonight’s reading, I have to say that it is impacted by insufficient sleep. (Just under 4 hours) The upside-down High Priestess suggests that everything is out of whack, although the 10 of pentacles in the self-conscious conveys some self-assuredness, but coupled with the instability of Strength coming upon the subconscious and all I can think is that sleep would yield a different reading.

I’d take tonight off, but I can’t. Nothing more to it than that.

#diary of the the New Mr. X #diaries #ambitious projects. #people who live and work at night #cab drivers #diary