it's always a little disconcerting when i sit down ready to write something or anything, only to be struck by a sudden sense of forgetfulness or emptiness, whereby i suspect that my muse has somehow gone out to take a break. this is one of those occasions, and in a vain attempt, i have chosen to fight it and simply write about crap... hoping that i'll catch up to whatever thought train left the station some time ago.
today is one of those days where the inside of your house is colder than outside, and instead of soaking in some sun and fending off the impending rickets, i've decided to give writing another go-again. it's the general blur of my days and evenings which seem to have the greatest impact on my muse which i'm sure, like my body, is hating me for screwing up my sleeping habits. yes, it's a tough life. yesterday consisted of going to stroll around third street with friends and acquintences, only to duck onto a bookstore to escape the chilling gale-force that which made walking an inconvenience, and as we later discovered, to read angus oblong's creepy susie and other sad tales about troubled children. my friend and i later had a delicious dinner of cuban chicken and drove over to another friend's house for wine and cheese, while jazzy music played in the background. after a rousing discussion of design, the arts and crafts movement, soft-core porn, and the mysterious occupation of a "fluffer," we walked to a nearby karaoke studio to rent ourselves a room and sing random tunes to the likes of californication, tainted love, new york new york, and love shack. i actually got to bed early yesterday and went to bed at four. yes, it's a tough life.
although i've told myself that i refuse to let this C.3.3 soapbox turn into a boring i-did-A-B-C-today like so many predictable journals i have read in the past, the previous paragraph was a necessity, and my apologies for it. it seemed, at the moment, the best way to illustrate my random, capricious, blasé, and excruciatingly rough life i live every day. tonight, i'm probably gonna go bowling. *sigh.
life is far too important a thing ever to talk seriously about.
: wilde.
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