I am reading some articles about mushroom culture on the net. My interest is revived once again and I am now considering the possibility of cloning my own mushrooms. Why have I not thought of this before?
It’s so hard nowadays to find mushrooms in the market. No problem. I’ll do anything. If I have to get them from the wild I’ll do it. See how determined I am when I’m interested. Now it’s time to keep quiet . . . silence . . . top secret.
I feel fine this afternoon. There’s no reason why I can’t write now. This morning I had a stuffed up nose because of a persistent allergy. I was in no mood to write. Now I seem to be in the mood but what am I going to write? Nothing. Call it writer’s block but am I really a writer? Self-doubts . . . here we go again.
The next morning, still my writer’s block persists. How long will it last? That I don’t know. If it takes five days, I will abandon writing. I just can’t go on and on (and on) writing about writer’s block.
Before I woke up at around 4:30 a.m., I had a dream. I was in my younger years, unmarried—late twenties—and very attractive to girls and snipers. I had finished eating a delicious meal and there was a brown-skinned girl with clear white teeth at the counter. I asked her, “How much?” She smiled and she told me the price which I immediately paid. We had a brief conversation and after a couple of minutes I was unable to resist her charm and I asked her, “May I . . . ?” Somewhat thrilled at the idea, she giggled. But then some good-for-nothing onlookers made sniping remarks about us. Then I woke up and had a mixed feeling of depression and excitement. What a dream! I almost thought it was real.