Dash of this, pinch of that… some streaming consciousness (mental feces) pouring your way here today. That’s what the pen demands, so that’s what gets up.
Sometimes, I’m just fucking drained. I have nothing left to give. Maybe it’s my diet. Maybe it’s those dabblings in random excess. Maybe it’s my natural disposition: to be tired-dirt-spent.
Nah. Not that last one.
I hear bananas are a “natural mood enhancer”. Whatever that means. Some moods shouldn’t be “enhanced”, in all honesty. I’ve already had one today, along with three cupcakes and nachos. See what I mean about the diet thing? Not exactly stable. I have a banana sitting on my desk right now. Brown dotted. Curious little dude, wondering when I’m going to peel and destroy him with my teeth.
Then I will make him into poo. The good poo, of course.
My memory has been dealing me worse and worse here recently. I forgot two good friends' birthdays this past weekend. TWO. And even after I realized it, I kept forgetting to DO something about that. I neglected to DO anything to make it up to them.
This is becoming a rather nasty pattern with me. One that I feel is a bit of a departure from my previous self. I’m all about progress and change, but some changes work against what I would classify as progress.
And this whole forgetfulness-gone-everything is more on the steaming bowl-o-shit side of my preference scale. I rarely lean that way intentionally.
Still working on my books. The process is fascinating, but I’m trying not to write about it because that’s what the vast majority of writer’s with blogs WRITE about: the process and frustrations of writing. It’s beyond masturbatory and frankly, it makes me grind my teeth.
So I won’t read that last paragraph ever, because it proves my hypocrisy AND it makes me grind my teeth.
I need another happy hour like I need more hair around my asshole. Wait, no, that’s not right…
Christ? Christ!
*POOF*
Thursday, October 20, 2005
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7 comments:
I so very empathize. Even though you can't "so very empathize", I'm doin' it anyway. Right here, right now. Not so sure what I'm empathizing with, but I recognize the confused look on my face right now as one I've seen many a time on the face of people listening to me. So I must empathize.
Yes, Impulsive. You are empathizing with everyone else who might read this post. What can I say? Sometimes, my streaming consciousness is more like diarrhea of the mind.
It happens.
hey dude. i usually don't forget birthdays AND i still don't do anything about it. yup. live with it. we love you anyway!
Stream of consciousness, stream of liquid shit.
clearly, I'll read both.
I assume you're throwing my birthday into that missed list, eh? Cheers mister.
Oooohhh Brainfart!
brother nick
I like bananas.
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