On insomnia, planning, and anxiety.

It's becoming obvious that being financially stable is not the be-all end-all of nervousness. And, being engaged has had some interesting effects--notably a more pointed feeling of insufficiency and a lack of self control. I have a hard enough time getting my mind to slow down to sleep as it is, and neither of these really help.
Last night as I struggled against wakefulness, the old promise came into my head -- Be still, and know that I am God. Except that meant a much, much, much different thing to me than it ever did. The statement 'I am God' rattled my whole being and grew and grew and grew, and I was terrified. A great and dreadful hand grabbed my bed in its palm and lifted it. I am God, it said. And as I began to understand the Bigness that held me and my sleepless mattress in its terrifying palm, it grew larger and pulled me out of my house and held me one hundred feet above the ground. I am God. I looked down and then into the Great Face that looked on me with its huge and terrible eyes. I looked back down to the ground and was as high as if I'd been in an airplane. I looked back to the Great Face, and to the hand that held me, and it continued to grow.
The Hand continued to lift me and I watched the ground grow further away--out of its orbit, out of the solar system, out of the galaxy, until all the universe was too small to notice. My bed now sat on a ridge of the Great Hand's fingerprint. From a thousand thousands of miles away, the Great Face still looked as if it were right before me.
You don't understand, it said.
I am God.

Oh, be still, be still, be still.

Fiance Knowles

If you like it, put a ring on it.

Employmentville, USA

I have my orientation for the Barnes & Noble Cafe tomorrow evening.
Hurrah!
Now after I get some paychecks under my belt, I can start doing things with my life.
But until then, I've got some things to do.
Like finish an album.
Or finish the Brothers Karamazov
Or tease my girlfriend.

I am very thankful for new beginnings.

And, for mixtapes.
Multitrack Sneakattack, vol VIII: Otto Octavius' Top Picks