NaNoWriMo Day 19

ROCK the Kasbah!

I did exactly as planned and took the creaky old Windows 98 to 'Bucks!

So I took my protagonist and the adventuring party into their first encounter and shocked myself. I have to learn to trust in my instincts, because that's what took over as I was writing today. As I mentioned, I want the encounters to be different, but I don't know how to make them exactly "different". After today's wordfest (2511 words! wOOp!) I realized I still can't predict what will make them different -- but I do know that as I'm writing, stuff will turn out differently. Instinct? My Muse? Inspiration? Genius? God? I don't know what to call the process but I love it. I love writing it and watching it unfold AS I'M WRITING. It's like a dream. While I'm dreaming, my brain is making up the details, but I still can't tell how it's going to turn out even though it's my own brain. It's a very real example of the difference between conscious and subconscious, and I gotta say -- I'm LOVING my subconscious right now.

This doesn't mean that I don't know how the story ends, because today I actually figured it out. But I'm excited to find out how we get there and I hope publishers will too!

And you what? I would be perfectly content this week to sit at the keyboard with a turkey microwave dinner on Thursday and Friday if it means I can have as much fun then as I had today.

The Alone Life. It's not so bad this week.

Sreaking of, here's the realtime catch-up;

My Benefactor never went to the month-long rehab. The insurance still won't pay and he talked himself out of cashing a stock and paying for it himself. I feel roughly nothing about it. The fact that he can pay still blows my mind and makes me a bit crazy, but frankly I don't care what he does with his money. It is, after all, HIS money.

All the same, I'm sure I saw him drunk a few days ago, but on Friday he insisted that today would be his 30-day sober anniversary and he wanted me to go to a Meeting with him to celebrate it. But Friday was the last time I saw him. He stays over his girlfriend's house and she drinks and pops. But he told me he doesn't partake with her.

I'm not believing. And I don't care.

And you know what else? I've realized I'm not a bad person for the way I feel. Know why? Because this dude is running the same game on me that my father used to run, and I've decided not to agonize over it. Addicts lie. I heard them tell it at their own meetings.

They LIE.

So why should I invest and go round and round again? His addiction is a stone wall that exists between us, one who's foundation was laid by my father, and I'm not interested in spending the energy it takes to break it down. Let him break it down. Let his children and his father break it down.

I can be grateful to him for giving me this year, and however else longer it will take to get me out of here, just like I'm grateful to my father for planting the seed in Mom and making me, but I can't chase people around out of gratitude. I can't give my life in pursuit of no one. It's a senseless waste of the gift they gave me.

So when I'm gone, I will be GONE, jack. I'll leave my number and forwarding address, and he will never use them to contact me and I will not care. He's ten years older than me and he's got family.

Whew! Thank you, blog!

Okay, 'nuff said about that for now.