Showing posts with label burnout. Show all posts
Showing posts with label burnout. Show all posts
1/13/2011
The cupcakes are burnin
Trying to think of reasons to keep blogging. I may need to declare another hiatus. The pointlessness of it all is overpowering at the moment. Let's see how I feel tomorrow. In the meantime, check out this.
7/23/2008
Watching the chili
I miss you, PM
More than [The size and shape of a nuclear plant cooling tower.]
But now the Internet won't leave me alone.
I would explain more [the above parentheses] but
digits are my job and spitting syllables becomes the enemy, totally foreign to
reveal my mind when my only breath is to
enjoy emptiness, embrace blank slates and
skip along with contentment upon
encountering my harried fellow
citizens in the shopping mall.
More than [The size and shape of a nuclear plant cooling tower.]
But now the Internet won't leave me alone.
I would explain more [the above parentheses] but
digits are my job and spitting syllables becomes the enemy, totally foreign to
reveal my mind when my only breath is to
enjoy emptiness, embrace blank slates and
skip along with contentment upon
encountering my harried fellow
citizens in the shopping mall.
7/04/2005
It's been a slice
Thanks to all my readers for being a part of online history. Today is my 27th birthday and I've got so many more things to invent, so until further notice this blog is closed. Please go through the highlights below for a trip down memory lane. To paraphrase the immortal Lao-Tzu, "you should always stick out like a peppercorn in peanut sauce." Or something like that. Stay golden Ponyboy.
7/01/2005
My favourite FIAC posts and related commentary
(given my impending 'vacation' and all; you're just gonna have to bear with me)
Anything from Week One 2-29-04 to 3-06-04 - If you want to know me as a writer, this one week contains everything, condensed.
What the ^&%#!@ is this?? 3-07-04 - Originally an email to my friend, glad I kept it. A classic example of 'Rambungling' ('rambunctious' + 'bungling'), which is a very enjoyable philosophy I invented along with my two dear ex-housemates KJW and CEB about 6 years ago.
The Lady and the Snake 3-08-04 - a poem about the 16-lane highway that goes through my backyard. On the map of Toronto the 401 looks just like a snake; throw in some 'city of Toronto as the curious-and-then-regretful lady Eve' polish and, voila - you've got yourself some biblico-environmental propaganda.
Winnipeg? Ha, more like Loserpeg! 3-11-04 - among the first of many frivolous rants on arbitrary topics; I could call it satire on other bloggers if I wanted to be deep, but I'm not and I won't.
Out like a lamb 3-18-04 - classic example of a new style of surrealist writing I was just beginning to mess around with. My friend ABM calls it 'prosetry' (PROSE-uh-tree). I like that.
In angry defense 3-18-04 - an argument for the existence of God, argued by somebody nobody could like.
Freedom is a Cupcake 3-21-04 - needs to be read aloud. Basically an experiment in rhythm.
My heart on a napkin 3-24-04 - still the best mixed tape I ever made.
Waltzing Matilda 4-01-04 - I wanted to write something that would make me cry every time I read it. If I were a psychaitrist I think would say this one's about bipolarity; what the sad man says to the happy man when the happy man goes away. If I were Johnny Cash, I would say this is about Jesus and a man whose faith has abandoned him. If you read it just once you'd probably say it's about a girl. Sure why not.
The Barometer of Evil 4-15-04 - a fun chapter about the end of the world. I like the part about the chicken wings.
Nonnessence Unlimited 4-22-04 - words that almost sound like words, and have some kind of asemantic auditory meaning even though it's all garbage.
Isabella 4-27-04 - when I was in Italy in 2003 I fell in love with my third cousin, though I never did tell her. Isabella's not her real name. I think I would like to name my daughter Isabella; anything that makes you smile when you say it is a good name. Then all her life my kid will have people smiling at her, and maybe she'll grow up happy.
Unquenchable shame and ruin 5-08-04 - usually when I write bits of short stories, it's an exercise in sheer determination, to make something entertaining about an arbitrary word or phrase I write in the blogger title bar. It's great exercise.
meta-magic 6-01-04 - my first foolhardy attempt to explain what I was trying to accomplish with this blog. Utterly pretentious.
disappointment wears a llama mask 6-01-4 - along with 'Shame and Ruin' (above) this could be my favourite FIAC short-story.
mona get out 6-12-4 - sympathy for a famous work of art, and the lifetime of misery that goes along with it.
At the corner of Yonge and Fairlawn 6-17-04 - an attempt to describe my office. Or one of them. aka the window looking out a North Toronto Starbucks.
graffiti on the sidewalk 6-26-04 - one opinion about who's to blame for the mess that is Toronto.
ADD-inspired analysis of the Hip's latest 6-30-04 - my only CD review!
monkey on my back 7-06-04 - written on a whim while my friend CB was in the basement on the phone. Something to make her laugh as she hung up.
The Truth About Rambunglstiltskin 7-14-04 - my first serious (word choice?) attempt to put the philosophy of 'Rambunglement' into writing. Something I'll keep working at.
bobby beholds beauty, beast 7-20-04 - poem as sheer act of stubborn willpower.
another midnight 7-22-04 - fluffy piece of candy.
The Saucy Cello 7-26-04 - some people take their frustrations out on inanimate objects. Here's an attempt to reverse the formula.
coffee-cup rhymes 8-29-04 - pessimistic take on the meaning of life, written in a Second Cup coffee shop in fall 2003 when my legs had stopped working for the 4th time. Appeared on the backpage of the Queen's University 'Lighthouse Wire' creative writing mag in Spring 2004.
The Three Big Pigs 9-16-04 - As opposed to the Three Little Pigs.
London! 9-18-04 - I took my anger out on London, but really this is about a girl who done me wrong.
Sentences! Sentences! I need 500 by nightfall! 10-04-04 - you gotta keep feeding the dragon.
across ocean 10-21-04 - for my friend KH in Scandinavia; a poem about email and all its inherent wonders and limitations.
Father Cupcake drinks a Corona 10-30-04 - I don't know why I pick italics sometimes. I guess it's when I get up on my foolhardy soapbox.
Noodle and Doodle 11-06-04 - do you work to live, or live to work? A Seuss-type thing about rebellion (and Dr. S is the master rebel).
more pointless than usual 11-09-04 - cupcakes at their most incoherent.
November Rhymes 11-24-04 - I had been reading a lot of Marshall McLuhan when I wrote this. An attempt as synaesthesia, or multi-sense writing.
Marilyn and John Talk rubbish-rot 12-01-04 - Marilyn and John have haunted me for a while. Sometimes I like to rub their faces in the mud.
Do not read this 12-08-04 - my rather half-hearted attempt to destroy the universe and nullify existence ;)
Calabria 12-22-04 - the girl in italics is my third-cousin.
cumulo question 1-02-05 - except for caffeine and alcohol, I have never done drugs - in case you were wondering.
Nursery rhymes for the urban cynic 1-08-05 - snapshots of city life. Also some of my friends think I should be writing kids books. This is one perverse attempt to do that.
Celebratory cement mixer on Queen St 1-09-05 - I do a lot of writing at Java House on Queen St west of Spadina. They have decent food at low prices, and a great view of the coolios, hoboes and riffraff on Queen West.
Shappy the Clown 1-26-05 - this is about me.
meaning = absence of suffering? 2-10-05 - bit about animal euthanasia, written during the Terri Schiavo brouhaha.
Hold still 2-15-05 - this one asks a girl to be patient; because he's going to be worth it.
Unsolicited wallet-based enthusiasm 3-06-05 - occasionally I like to bludgeon my readers over the head with pure stupidity.
Take a 5-minute metaphysic and call me in the morning 3-13-05 - a second attempt to explain what I was trying to do with this blog. Does the large-print paragraph make it obvious?
Taking Tony Down a Peg 4-04-05 - this one was worth writing for the phrase "confiscate his allumettes."
Mind game 4-08-05 - a couple of years ago I thought about going to Georgetown University in Washington to study Cognitive Psychology. Not that that has much to do with this post, but I've always like talking about the mind b/c it's so intangible, cupcakey y'know.
Bakuta Lady 4-09-05 - actually it's Kubata, which is a coffee shop near my house.
Have a nice day 4-10-05 - I wanted to write the most unlikely post ever to appear on a blog, and this was it.
I Guarantee Sun on Sundays 4-17-05 - I really do. Before noon - I guarantee it. After noon it may get cloudy though. I can promise you the sun, but I can't promise you the moon.
She said 4-20-05 - this is about Ayn Rand and my attempt to encapsulate her philosophy aka Objectivism. She and I make strange bedfellows, cuz I'm a tad bleeding-heart, but I thought 'Atlas Shrugged' was truly awesome.
Nathan Bugsy Villespliff V - Son of an Ant-Poison Factory Foreman 4-20-05 - the first story I had written in a while. Pure sugar.
Chris and Di among the Paupers 4-26-05 - about the giant Britney Spears perfume poster that until a few weeks ago hung above the St. Christopher Mission at the northwest corner of Queen and Bathurst - a disturbingly real part of the city I see a lot of on my writing missions to various coffee houses.
Bakuta Lady (completed) 5-03-05 - this and the other Bakuta (Kubata) lady posts were written as fast as I could possibly type. Basically I sat and wrote for an hour, about 60 words/minute, without stopping. Then I revisited and tried to make sense of it.
More Ms. Rhythm 5-16-05 - unfortunately the link for Ms. Rhythm (April 26 post) doesn't work, but go read that first. I wanted to write a Johnny Cash-themed song, but using a trick I had learned from Bob Dylan's autobiography 'Chronicles'. Dylan mentions about a new rhythm he discovered that would allow him to write and sing new songs effortlessly. I thought I'd give it a try.
paranoia on the internet 5-24-05 - this is mostly trash; it was after this post that I began to realize I was taking myself too seriously. So for the last month FIAC got a heck of a lot sillier.
Shot in the leg by a midget 5-29-05 - case in point.
Everything can and should be Swedish 5-31-05 - worn out with serious poetry after LIAB was finished, I wanted to get back to my foolish and 'rambungling' roots.
Label me sweaty 6-01-05 - I hate heat waves more than anything. I perspire far too easily. Good thing I smell so wonderful.
7 things that bother me about tuna 6-07-05 - perhaps the only thing I hate more than a heatwave is the smell of tuna.
Urban Haiku 6-09-05 - in the vein of 'Nursery Rhymes for the urban cynic' but more playful.
To-do list June 12 6-12-05 - these are fun to write!
Things that rhyme with hula hoop 6-15-05 - exercise in writing as talking.
Life and time of Lt. Froghab 6-19-05 - the last FIAC short story????
beat you up real bad 6-28-05 - a cross b/w Frank Sinatra and Mickey Spillane.
Well those are some highlights. Sorry if explaining things ruins it a bit, but hey.
Anything from Week One 2-29-04 to 3-06-04 - If you want to know me as a writer, this one week contains everything, condensed.
What the ^&%#!@ is this?? 3-07-04 - Originally an email to my friend, glad I kept it. A classic example of 'Rambungling' ('rambunctious' + 'bungling'), which is a very enjoyable philosophy I invented along with my two dear ex-housemates KJW and CEB about 6 years ago.
The Lady and the Snake 3-08-04 - a poem about the 16-lane highway that goes through my backyard. On the map of Toronto the 401 looks just like a snake; throw in some 'city of Toronto as the curious-and-then-regretful lady Eve' polish and, voila - you've got yourself some biblico-environmental propaganda.
Winnipeg? Ha, more like Loserpeg! 3-11-04 - among the first of many frivolous rants on arbitrary topics; I could call it satire on other bloggers if I wanted to be deep, but I'm not and I won't.
Out like a lamb 3-18-04 - classic example of a new style of surrealist writing I was just beginning to mess around with. My friend ABM calls it 'prosetry' (PROSE-uh-tree). I like that.
In angry defense 3-18-04 - an argument for the existence of God, argued by somebody nobody could like.
Freedom is a Cupcake 3-21-04 - needs to be read aloud. Basically an experiment in rhythm.
My heart on a napkin 3-24-04 - still the best mixed tape I ever made.
Waltzing Matilda 4-01-04 - I wanted to write something that would make me cry every time I read it. If I were a psychaitrist I think would say this one's about bipolarity; what the sad man says to the happy man when the happy man goes away. If I were Johnny Cash, I would say this is about Jesus and a man whose faith has abandoned him. If you read it just once you'd probably say it's about a girl. Sure why not.
The Barometer of Evil 4-15-04 - a fun chapter about the end of the world. I like the part about the chicken wings.
Nonnessence Unlimited 4-22-04 - words that almost sound like words, and have some kind of asemantic auditory meaning even though it's all garbage.
Isabella 4-27-04 - when I was in Italy in 2003 I fell in love with my third cousin, though I never did tell her. Isabella's not her real name. I think I would like to name my daughter Isabella; anything that makes you smile when you say it is a good name. Then all her life my kid will have people smiling at her, and maybe she'll grow up happy.
Unquenchable shame and ruin 5-08-04 - usually when I write bits of short stories, it's an exercise in sheer determination, to make something entertaining about an arbitrary word or phrase I write in the blogger title bar. It's great exercise.
meta-magic 6-01-04 - my first foolhardy attempt to explain what I was trying to accomplish with this blog. Utterly pretentious.
disappointment wears a llama mask 6-01-4 - along with 'Shame and Ruin' (above) this could be my favourite FIAC short-story.
mona get out 6-12-4 - sympathy for a famous work of art, and the lifetime of misery that goes along with it.
At the corner of Yonge and Fairlawn 6-17-04 - an attempt to describe my office. Or one of them. aka the window looking out a North Toronto Starbucks.
graffiti on the sidewalk 6-26-04 - one opinion about who's to blame for the mess that is Toronto.
ADD-inspired analysis of the Hip's latest 6-30-04 - my only CD review!
monkey on my back 7-06-04 - written on a whim while my friend CB was in the basement on the phone. Something to make her laugh as she hung up.
The Truth About Rambunglstiltskin 7-14-04 - my first serious (word choice?) attempt to put the philosophy of 'Rambunglement' into writing. Something I'll keep working at.
bobby beholds beauty, beast 7-20-04 - poem as sheer act of stubborn willpower.
another midnight 7-22-04 - fluffy piece of candy.
The Saucy Cello 7-26-04 - some people take their frustrations out on inanimate objects. Here's an attempt to reverse the formula.
coffee-cup rhymes 8-29-04 - pessimistic take on the meaning of life, written in a Second Cup coffee shop in fall 2003 when my legs had stopped working for the 4th time. Appeared on the backpage of the Queen's University 'Lighthouse Wire' creative writing mag in Spring 2004.
The Three Big Pigs 9-16-04 - As opposed to the Three Little Pigs.
London! 9-18-04 - I took my anger out on London, but really this is about a girl who done me wrong.
Sentences! Sentences! I need 500 by nightfall! 10-04-04 - you gotta keep feeding the dragon.
across ocean 10-21-04 - for my friend KH in Scandinavia; a poem about email and all its inherent wonders and limitations.
Father Cupcake drinks a Corona 10-30-04 - I don't know why I pick italics sometimes. I guess it's when I get up on my foolhardy soapbox.
Noodle and Doodle 11-06-04 - do you work to live, or live to work? A Seuss-type thing about rebellion (and Dr. S is the master rebel).
more pointless than usual 11-09-04 - cupcakes at their most incoherent.
November Rhymes 11-24-04 - I had been reading a lot of Marshall McLuhan when I wrote this. An attempt as synaesthesia, or multi-sense writing.
Marilyn and John Talk rubbish-rot 12-01-04 - Marilyn and John have haunted me for a while. Sometimes I like to rub their faces in the mud.
Do not read this 12-08-04 - my rather half-hearted attempt to destroy the universe and nullify existence ;)
Calabria 12-22-04 - the girl in italics is my third-cousin.
cumulo question 1-02-05 - except for caffeine and alcohol, I have never done drugs - in case you were wondering.
Nursery rhymes for the urban cynic 1-08-05 - snapshots of city life. Also some of my friends think I should be writing kids books. This is one perverse attempt to do that.
Celebratory cement mixer on Queen St 1-09-05 - I do a lot of writing at Java House on Queen St west of Spadina. They have decent food at low prices, and a great view of the coolios, hoboes and riffraff on Queen West.
Shappy the Clown 1-26-05 - this is about me.
meaning = absence of suffering? 2-10-05 - bit about animal euthanasia, written during the Terri Schiavo brouhaha.
Hold still 2-15-05 - this one asks a girl to be patient; because he's going to be worth it.
Unsolicited wallet-based enthusiasm 3-06-05 - occasionally I like to bludgeon my readers over the head with pure stupidity.
Take a 5-minute metaphysic and call me in the morning 3-13-05 - a second attempt to explain what I was trying to do with this blog. Does the large-print paragraph make it obvious?
Taking Tony Down a Peg 4-04-05 - this one was worth writing for the phrase "confiscate his allumettes."
Mind game 4-08-05 - a couple of years ago I thought about going to Georgetown University in Washington to study Cognitive Psychology. Not that that has much to do with this post, but I've always like talking about the mind b/c it's so intangible, cupcakey y'know.
Bakuta Lady 4-09-05 - actually it's Kubata, which is a coffee shop near my house.
Have a nice day 4-10-05 - I wanted to write the most unlikely post ever to appear on a blog, and this was it.
I Guarantee Sun on Sundays 4-17-05 - I really do. Before noon - I guarantee it. After noon it may get cloudy though. I can promise you the sun, but I can't promise you the moon.
She said 4-20-05 - this is about Ayn Rand and my attempt to encapsulate her philosophy aka Objectivism. She and I make strange bedfellows, cuz I'm a tad bleeding-heart, but I thought 'Atlas Shrugged' was truly awesome.
Nathan Bugsy Villespliff V - Son of an Ant-Poison Factory Foreman 4-20-05 - the first story I had written in a while. Pure sugar.
Chris and Di among the Paupers 4-26-05 - about the giant Britney Spears perfume poster that until a few weeks ago hung above the St. Christopher Mission at the northwest corner of Queen and Bathurst - a disturbingly real part of the city I see a lot of on my writing missions to various coffee houses.
Bakuta Lady (completed) 5-03-05 - this and the other Bakuta (Kubata) lady posts were written as fast as I could possibly type. Basically I sat and wrote for an hour, about 60 words/minute, without stopping. Then I revisited and tried to make sense of it.
More Ms. Rhythm 5-16-05 - unfortunately the link for Ms. Rhythm (April 26 post) doesn't work, but go read that first. I wanted to write a Johnny Cash-themed song, but using a trick I had learned from Bob Dylan's autobiography 'Chronicles'. Dylan mentions about a new rhythm he discovered that would allow him to write and sing new songs effortlessly. I thought I'd give it a try.
paranoia on the internet 5-24-05 - this is mostly trash; it was after this post that I began to realize I was taking myself too seriously. So for the last month FIAC got a heck of a lot sillier.
Shot in the leg by a midget 5-29-05 - case in point.
Everything can and should be Swedish 5-31-05 - worn out with serious poetry after LIAB was finished, I wanted to get back to my foolish and 'rambungling' roots.
Label me sweaty 6-01-05 - I hate heat waves more than anything. I perspire far too easily. Good thing I smell so wonderful.
7 things that bother me about tuna 6-07-05 - perhaps the only thing I hate more than a heatwave is the smell of tuna.
Urban Haiku 6-09-05 - in the vein of 'Nursery Rhymes for the urban cynic' but more playful.
To-do list June 12 6-12-05 - these are fun to write!
Things that rhyme with hula hoop 6-15-05 - exercise in writing as talking.
Life and time of Lt. Froghab 6-19-05 - the last FIAC short story????
beat you up real bad 6-28-05 - a cross b/w Frank Sinatra and Mickey Spillane.
Well those are some highlights. Sorry if explaining things ruins it a bit, but hey.
6/29/2005
Taking a break
I have thought this over for what seems like forever. But today I resolved for good that there's only so much the Gnu-Headed Oracle of Whatever (for lack of a better pen name) can accomplish on the internet. If there's a threshold for the bizarre, I've passed it and then some. So on July 4 I am going to take a vacation from this blog. I'm riding off into the sunset because there is simply no reason to continue. Whatever battle I have been fighting since February 29 of last year, I have won won won.
From July 4 on I'll be working on something new, which I've already mentioned. I hope it will be lovely and good (lovely and good is all anyone should ever try to be). I'll still be kicking around; I'm a pretty easy guy to find.
This blog is intensely personal and patently foreign. I've done my best to blow minds and coax thought. To accomplish that I had to blow my own mind, and make myself think, to double-think, to meta-think, to pre-think and anti-think; to think on the fly, to think strategically and compromise among contradictory thoughts; to think about words, sentences, paragraphs, whole posts, strings of posts and how they all fit together and to never stop or submit to horrible and fatal cliche or thoughtlessness. The result is this mixed tape of a blog, and it is glorious and awful and stupid and huge and delicate and I love it. I put many demands on my readers because I owe them that respect as intelligent human beings. I left out autobiographical details of my 'real' life, because to me that stuff wasn't as interesting. To me, imagination is more interesting, more real and powerful, and so that's what I wanted to share. In deliberately avoiding my personal details and anecdotes, I surely alienated a huge chunk of my readership - hell, I half scared myself to death with this shit - but I stand by everything on here. A lot of people tuned out a long time ago in bewilderment, and I understand that of course. There are a lot of voices on this blog, but all of them are mine. As some poet said: "Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself. I am a man, I contain multitudes."
Believe it or not, I agonized over every syllable, with few exceptions.
Will I ever come back and bake more cupcakes for blogger? I hope so. I believe I have already won the battle. Ms. Rhythm has lost and I have won. But if any of her sisters come kicking around, then just flash me the cupcake signal and I'll come back to finish them off.
For now, it's time to move on.
At some point I'll put up a list of my favourite posts. Which is completely self-indulgent, but hey.
I'll say it again in 5 days, but thanks so much for reading.
xoxo
ps "Freedom is a cupcake"? I wrote that sentence with my eyes closed and half-asleep in the fall of 2003. I'm still not sure what it means, but I think 'FIAC' means you can choose something warm and delicious, or you can choose something that rots your teeth and gives you cancer. The freedom to grasp at a small delight is at the heart of freedom and the philosophy of joy. Joy is something you can find if you think long enough about it. If you find yourself in a fog, or a situation that doesn't make any sense, as I did and we all do, you can make it make sense. While you have a brain there is hope. All we've got on this pale blue dot is our words and our thought.
From July 4 on I'll be working on something new, which I've already mentioned. I hope it will be lovely and good (lovely and good is all anyone should ever try to be). I'll still be kicking around; I'm a pretty easy guy to find.
This blog is intensely personal and patently foreign. I've done my best to blow minds and coax thought. To accomplish that I had to blow my own mind, and make myself think, to double-think, to meta-think, to pre-think and anti-think; to think on the fly, to think strategically and compromise among contradictory thoughts; to think about words, sentences, paragraphs, whole posts, strings of posts and how they all fit together and to never stop or submit to horrible and fatal cliche or thoughtlessness. The result is this mixed tape of a blog, and it is glorious and awful and stupid and huge and delicate and I love it. I put many demands on my readers because I owe them that respect as intelligent human beings. I left out autobiographical details of my 'real' life, because to me that stuff wasn't as interesting. To me, imagination is more interesting, more real and powerful, and so that's what I wanted to share. In deliberately avoiding my personal details and anecdotes, I surely alienated a huge chunk of my readership - hell, I half scared myself to death with this shit - but I stand by everything on here. A lot of people tuned out a long time ago in bewilderment, and I understand that of course. There are a lot of voices on this blog, but all of them are mine. As some poet said: "Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself. I am a man, I contain multitudes."
Believe it or not, I agonized over every syllable, with few exceptions.
Will I ever come back and bake more cupcakes for blogger? I hope so. I believe I have already won the battle. Ms. Rhythm has lost and I have won. But if any of her sisters come kicking around, then just flash me the cupcake signal and I'll come back to finish them off.
For now, it's time to move on.
At some point I'll put up a list of my favourite posts. Which is completely self-indulgent, but hey.
I'll say it again in 5 days, but thanks so much for reading.
xoxo
ps "Freedom is a cupcake"? I wrote that sentence with my eyes closed and half-asleep in the fall of 2003. I'm still not sure what it means, but I think 'FIAC' means you can choose something warm and delicious, or you can choose something that rots your teeth and gives you cancer. The freedom to grasp at a small delight is at the heart of freedom and the philosophy of joy. Joy is something you can find if you think long enough about it. If you find yourself in a fog, or a situation that doesn't make any sense, as I did and we all do, you can make it make sense. While you have a brain there is hope. All we've got on this pale blue dot is our words and our thought.
5/28/2005
what happened to me?
So... I was reading old emails again.
Question: What ever happened to me?
When did I lose the ability to talk about myself?
Not that I ever possessed it, mind you. But for a while there, it was fun just to be me, and not the gnu-headed Oracle of Whatever.
This thing, these words - all these words belonging to other people, stolen by me, uniquely expressed on this frankensteinian platform - ate me alive. I confused them with me. They're not me. I was eaten; I've been digesting myself for over a year. Literature as bowel movement. Go figure.
It set me loose, hi fibre catharsis or somesuch. But my legs are numb from sitting on the pot. I have to learn to walk again.
When you remember too much, too many details, too many dictionary entries, you need constant reminding of what's important. Love and be loved and all that jazz. I guess I'm a crack baby for distraction. I have far too many seductive inklings. Did I ever tell you about my 50 latest book ideas? I swear at least one of them will make me famous. Yikes.
Also - I'm so close to telling you about my nervous breakdown. Everyone has one at some point, and mine was a thing of beauty. Highly unoriginal, yes, but artistic in its existential melancholia. Actually, if you want, just re-read Ms. Rhythm's Revenge (april and may)- it's pretty much all there, in a catchy rhyming waltz.
(Some advice: if you're going to have a nervous breakdown, at least be interesting about it. I'm still trying, and hence Ms. Rhythm. Aren't we all, trying to be interesting with our neuroses that is... how I love every blogger on God's green internet)
I guess I should save the NB for another blog and leaves these twisted cupcakes to their yeasty frosty devices. But with cupcakes there's always this nagging egotistical urge to expose the Wizard. I think the cupcakes are great; I have a lot of respect for the cupcake ethos, but hell--cupcakes sure do mess with a man's life story. They taste great but they leave me unsatisfied in the end. Pure mind sugar.
I'll tell you one tidbit, tangentially related to my NB (although the NB took place before that):
I took a trip far away, to chase after a woman. (How original) I was in love and we were going to be happy together. Until the piano dropped on my head. It was like 'God smites Job' , bible wrath meets loony tunes. I did a double take and fell splat into the grand canyon. I was shot down from the sky. Like Icarus or maybe that was Phaeton's downfall. I got kicked in the face, stomach and head all at once. Things happened that I'm not too happy about. I was robbed of something and it was awful. Bad things aren't supposed to happen to nice people.
But I'm over that, really. Chalk it up to experience.
And I'm ready to tell you all about me. I got confessions on the brain.
So...
what do you want to know?
*Scuffle, shouting*
(IGNORE THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN!)
Question: What ever happened to me?
When did I lose the ability to talk about myself?
Not that I ever possessed it, mind you. But for a while there, it was fun just to be me, and not the gnu-headed Oracle of Whatever.
This thing, these words - all these words belonging to other people, stolen by me, uniquely expressed on this frankensteinian platform - ate me alive. I confused them with me. They're not me. I was eaten; I've been digesting myself for over a year. Literature as bowel movement. Go figure.
It set me loose, hi fibre catharsis or somesuch. But my legs are numb from sitting on the pot. I have to learn to walk again.
When you remember too much, too many details, too many dictionary entries, you need constant reminding of what's important. Love and be loved and all that jazz. I guess I'm a crack baby for distraction. I have far too many seductive inklings. Did I ever tell you about my 50 latest book ideas? I swear at least one of them will make me famous. Yikes.
Also - I'm so close to telling you about my nervous breakdown. Everyone has one at some point, and mine was a thing of beauty. Highly unoriginal, yes, but artistic in its existential melancholia. Actually, if you want, just re-read Ms. Rhythm's Revenge (april and may)- it's pretty much all there, in a catchy rhyming waltz.
(Some advice: if you're going to have a nervous breakdown, at least be interesting about it. I'm still trying, and hence Ms. Rhythm. Aren't we all, trying to be interesting with our neuroses that is... how I love every blogger on God's green internet)
I guess I should save the NB for another blog and leaves these twisted cupcakes to their yeasty frosty devices. But with cupcakes there's always this nagging egotistical urge to expose the Wizard. I think the cupcakes are great; I have a lot of respect for the cupcake ethos, but hell--cupcakes sure do mess with a man's life story. They taste great but they leave me unsatisfied in the end. Pure mind sugar.
I'll tell you one tidbit, tangentially related to my NB (although the NB took place before that):
I took a trip far away, to chase after a woman. (How original) I was in love and we were going to be happy together. Until the piano dropped on my head. It was like 'God smites Job' , bible wrath meets loony tunes. I did a double take and fell splat into the grand canyon. I was shot down from the sky. Like Icarus or maybe that was Phaeton's downfall. I got kicked in the face, stomach and head all at once. Things happened that I'm not too happy about. I was robbed of something and it was awful. Bad things aren't supposed to happen to nice people.
But I'm over that, really. Chalk it up to experience.
And I'm ready to tell you all about me. I got confessions on the brain.
So...
what do you want to know?
*Scuffle, shouting*
(IGNORE THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN!)
5/26/2004
Man I'm tired
Whoa... nelly.
Putting on a freak-ass clinic of such mind-blowing, all-encompassing importance is tiring indeed. Churning out this crap takes a lotta love (well, churning it is easy; keeping it *fresh* is a whole 'nother tub of butter). My second book is already one-third to one-half written--it's going to be an insane collection of insane short stories. It'll require some thirsty and contusion-inducing work to put that one together, but I hope it will blow minds. Right now however I need a vacation; maybe a couple days' respite from the FIAC. While I retool in the pat-cave, please do click below on the May 22 post, and I'll send you your copy of Vol. 1.
Phew. I'll be back and fresh on Saturday; fresh like a fistful of daisies--I'll be tossing you outta bed and smackin' you in the face. So giddyup, and get ready.
Putting on a freak-ass clinic of such mind-blowing, all-encompassing importance is tiring indeed. Churning out this crap takes a lotta love (well, churning it is easy; keeping it *fresh* is a whole 'nother tub of butter). My second book is already one-third to one-half written--it's going to be an insane collection of insane short stories. It'll require some thirsty and contusion-inducing work to put that one together, but I hope it will blow minds. Right now however I need a vacation; maybe a couple days' respite from the FIAC. While I retool in the pat-cave, please do click below on the May 22 post, and I'll send you your copy of Vol. 1.
Phew. I'll be back and fresh on Saturday; fresh like a fistful of daisies--I'll be tossing you outta bed and smackin' you in the face. So giddyup, and get ready.
3/27/2004
Man I'm tired
Whew. Four weeks. Ok I'm gonna take a break from FIAC for a wee bit. But it's been a blast so far. See you soon!
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