…my loud fucking neighbor

Let be just try to ignore the thing in my life that irritates me like a pebble in my shoe - and even then, a pebble I can do something about, while I am powerless to do anything about this irritating neighbor.

Here’s the latest from her. Last night she told me that they were going to keep down the party noise for my sake and for Zanaya’s. No fucking way. Up and down and up and down the stairs all night, from cigarettes on the front step to I don’t know what upstairs. It’s a constant pattern every day. Kids congregate at this house to hang with “KK,” who is apparently the only one among them who has an apartment. Up and down the stairs, all day and all night.

I can’t think straight.

What I would like to do is to write for a while and see where I end up. The idea of freewriting is that you don’t stop. But yet I keep stopping. I think maybe I should use a timer to force myself to continue writing for longer periods of time. The way it seems to work now is I will have bursts of writing followed by either inactivity - or rather, trying to regain the momentum - or, all too often, I’m distracted, taking a hit of weed, getting some more coffee, looking at Huffington Post, whatever, it’s all the same: it’s not work.

What would be good is if I can develop a sense for how long five minutes it, and then plan my writing in five minute freewriting bursts. That way I have a sense for how long I can sustain my writing without needing to rely on a timer all the time. Five minute bursts of writing, strung together, can create a whole bunch of words if properly situated and motivated. Instead, I seem to be able to produce about a paragraph of text before my attention wanders. In five minutes of non-stop freewriting I’ll bet I can produce nearly a page of text.

And my mind just wandered off for half a minute. Usually, when my mind wanders, I am thinking about what I’m going to write, when really I should just be writing.

Fuck it.