I hadn’t updated in a while because the internet told me not to.

In a list of things that keep you from being actually productive as a writer.

It was item #3.

Blogging.

Which is weird because plenty of people do blogging. Serious writers do blogging. Blog. That’s the verb I should use. Plenty of writers blog.

My last weeks have been pretty cool creatively, but not so much productively. I have many ideas for things that I usually end up not doing. Anyway, I thought I’d leave some of the things I’m working on so you are up.to.date.

  • Resilience (The second album by Nikolas Murdock)
    • So far Resilience’s got several things going for it, including a cover photo and a semi-finished tracklist which looks like so:
      1. WonderWhy
      2. Friendly Ghosts
      3. VCR
      4. Slow Jams
      5. Kidney Stone Pt. 1 (The honeymoon phase)
      6. Kidney Stone Pt. 2  (The falling out)
      7. Dark Glasses
      8. Be On It
      9. Going Home
      10. Gold Is Only Valuable Because It’s Useless
      11. Resilience
    • Each song is taking a lot of work to set up since each one is like ten layers thick and stuff. Anyway.
  • A Brief History Of The Atomic Bomb
    • I’m writing a novel and this is what it’s called. So far it’s like twenty chapters(I think) and 35 pages long.
    • There’s eight characters so far and like five that I’m setting up but still haven’t gotten around to introducing.
    • Writing a novel is fucking exhausting really.
  • #CowNeighbors
    • They are doing quite alright.
  • WhiteCardPoetry
    • I’m trying to evolve this very tiny project into something else involving six word stories. It’s slightly more difficult, but also a lot more rewarding, somehow.

So there we go. In case you were wondering. There we go.

Have a great week everybody!

The non staying club.

I’ve got to tell you something and I’m being dead serious about it. I’m perplexed by something I just discovered. Let me give you some context.

The other day I was finishing my read of Sleepwalk with me and other painfully true stories by one of my personal comedy heroes: Mike Birbiglia. He was 32 when he wrote that book, which is an awesome book. I maintain that it is no longer necessary for me to write an autobiography, since his life seems to have been so close to mine.

But then I started thinking, what would I write if I wrote an autobiography? Should I start right away, so that I don’t forget things? Will I remember things more brightly or more darkly? Had the fact that Birbiglia was so young when he wrote it have anything to do with his perception of his adolescence and childhood?

So I started mentally arranging the memories of my life and looking at significant moments and I’m drawing a blank on the elementary/middle school section. I can remember the time I spent with my family, but not at school.

And then it hit me. I think my mind blocked my memories of early school.

You know, because of bullying and stuff.

It is weird when you realize you have blocked an entire part of your mind because how do you know? How am I sure? What if I’m just very forgetful?

I need to dwell in this stuff for a while. I also just recently diagnosed myself with extreme social anxiety. I made this expert diagnosis because I just left a party I just could not be in any longer. There were too many people.

I have never actually gotten how to stay at really big parties. I know people normally do it. I kind of understand the charm, I’ve just never really applied it to myself. I do try sometimes, but it’s mostly when I’m medicated with either drugs or alcohol. Drugs don’t make things much better anyway, and alcohol doesn’t let me drive home. So like…there’s that.

And like now I’m here.

Things About Guadalajara

Today I was the victim of a vicious attack from a mischievous bottle of hot sauce. I was sitting in the Uma Uma Japanese Kitchen, near downtown Guadalajara. I had ordered a Katsu-don; a dish made of breaded pork and egg sitting on a bed of rice. I was quite happy with it, except for the fact that, in my opinion, it could be spicier.

luckily, there was a tiny little bottle of hot sauce on the table, of which I did not take a picture because writing about it just occurred to me. So I tipped over this marvel of simple mechanics upon my food. It did not release much of the product on my Katsu-don. So I kept squeezing until the cap gave way and I found myself with much more hot sauce than I was expecting on my food.

The rest of the food was a rollecoaster of denial. There was the “It’s probably not that spicy” phase. Then the “I should scrape the excess sauce off” phase. The “Yep, this is much better” phase. And finally the “Holy shit this is spicy” phase.

Beverages, I have found in my travels, are usually the more expensive part of the meal. I found myself with no drink at the half down mark on my Katsu-don. It was an ordeal. Not an impossible one, as I nearly finished it, but an ordeal nonetheless.


It seems like the scarcest of the resources in Guadalajara, like in every big city, are parking spaces. There are a myriad of commercial centers and plazas to choose from, but in each one, except the more expensive ones, you will probably have a hard time parking.

Some places solve this problem by providing underground parking planned at the architectural stage of the structure, however, these are often smaller than need be and you end up with a column where the driver’s door is. Getting out of these parking lots, I assume, is an elaborate game everyone in Guadalajara is playing.


I arrived at the Japenese Kitchen after searching for a tea house that, as I discovered, had closed two years ago. It was not a pleasant experience. I was aching for some good tea.

Good tea, like good coffee, is hard to find. It’s a trial and error endeavor, unless you know a lot of people who also like tea. Also, it is commonly very expensive. When it’s worth it, there’s not much of a problem. When it’s just ok, and you’ve already invested your life savings on a cup, it can be quite frustrating.


People here seem to think that everything is far away. The city is certainly a gargantuan place, with wide roads leading almost everywhere. But still I haven’t been in a real need to go anywhere more than half an hour away from my house, and it has been worth it every time. If the traffic is very intense, you may have some problems. Otherwise, it is very agreeable.

There are some legitimately underground places scattered around Guadalajara. One of the problems is that these places are so underground that they are undetectable through commonplace search tactics. That is, unless you’re friends with someone in the underground circuit, finding them is going to be tough. It’s like a treasure hunt, in all seriousness.

What I mean is: I need some friends in the underground circuit.