The Diary Of Cleaning My Room part one (there will be no part two)

I decided to sprouse up my room a little and while doing so I thought it’d be nice to write. That way instead of just focusing all my energy on either cleaning my room or writing I can do both, and instead of getting one thing completed with relative competency I can get two things done in a half assed manner, which I feel is ¼ as efficient as normal, and since I’m bad with fractions I have no idea if that’s good or bad, but I’m in an optimistic mood so I’ll assume its good.

Minute one: There’s too much crap to clean up and organize. I quit.

Minute two: After further evaluation I’ve decided that quitting is not an option. After all did Japan quit after we bombed Hiroshima? No, which is why we bombed Nagasaki too. So what convoluted point am I trying to get across? That’s a real question for you folks. I’m done trying to figure out what the fuck my brain is doing. Please do it for me.

Minute 19: I just realized the great baby kitties pissing of 2010 ran deeper than I expected. My pocket dictionary (which by the way is far too big to fit comfortably in any pocket, it’s bigger than any phone or wallet ever would be, which the exception of cell phones in the 80s and George Costanza’s wallet) is covered pretty good in dry baby kitty  piss. Shows what kitties think of Webster, I guess next time I’ll get the Oxford English dictionary.

Minute 36: I found a little piece of paper with a bunch of my writing on it including a Nietzche quote I copied out of the Viktor Frankl book Man’s Search For Meaning. The quote is ‘He who has a why to live for can bear with any how.’ And written directly under that are the words ‘a scene with two porn stars.’ I don’t think the two things are connected, although I think now I’ll find a way to connect them in an upcoming short story I work out half the plot for but never begin to write.

Minute 40: Had to kill a spider that I had been letting live in the corner of my room for the past few days. He got bigger, which led to all the more womanly scream when I worked up the courage to squish him with a couple napkins that are apparently made with 100% recycled material.

Minute 57: What is all this crap!?

Hour 1 Minute 30: Stuck my hand in a plastic bag to retrieve a plastic fork and three things of some kind of green sauce and my hand got all wet and now I’m scared.

Hour 1 Minute 40: Found my address book. It’s been pretty useless recently but brings back the nostalgia before I had a cell phone. Yep, what a pathetically nostalgic time.

Hour 2: Found what I think is the first version of the Closer To Clarity movie script and with each year that goes by it seems to be worse and worse. Also it’s surprisingly lacking in masturbation humor.

Day 3 Hour 8 Minute 48: I pretty much stopped cleaning my room after I found some of my old writing and started looking through it all. I don’t know when I’ll start cleaning my room again, but probably not for a while. I’m just glad I can see my floor now.

A podcast of me and some dude named Chris talking about 6 common misused words

About Danniel
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3 Responses to The Diary Of Cleaning My Room part one (there will be no part two)

  1. lianamerlo says:

    I need to clean my room too. You did such a great job with yours, why not attempt mine? You can write stories about what you find, and I guarantee there will be some weird stuff.

    • Danniel says:

      My mind is totally fucked tonight. When you said ‘weird stuff’ I didn’t once think of sexual objects. Something must be wrong.

      I don’t think I’d mind cleaning another person’s room. It’d be an adventure. Sad that I think an adventure would be cleaning a person’s room as opposed to hiking in New Zealand. Also sad that my big example of people having an adventure is hiking in New Zealand as opposed to something like exploring a cave.

  2. I hate cleaning my room!

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