I haven’t written in more than a week,
because I haven’t felt like writing. A whole bunch of life is happening to me, and it’s going by so fast that I can’t find time to blog it. This will be the gap when I’m old (OK, when I’m really old) and I’m trying to remember what I was doing just before I spent that mad year in Rio, with that crazy, crazy redhead from that goofy modern dance troupe. I will try to refer to my blog, because I know that blogs are forever, and all that I write will remain here for me and the world to read for all eternity, or until the ozone layer is completely gone and the entire human race has departed for another star system, lush green and yellow and silver planets that beckon and welcome, hiding their deadly secrets until all of the spaceships have been dismantled and beaten into plowshares…
But long before the Great Exodus, I will be a doddering old geezer yelling “URL, schmoo-R-L! Just find that blog!” And the great great grandchildren with their Intel Argos Brainchips will call up Google and frantically search the database of over 50 trillion blogs and vanity web sites for some record that I ever wrote anything at all, much less described the goings-on of June, 2006 but instead they will keep getting sidetracked by pictures of Paris Hilton going down on Jenna Bush, the future First Lady and President of the United States, before the Last Election, in 2032.
But I haven’t felt like writing, and so nothing will be found. I feel bad about this, although I know I’ll get over it before I am a doddering old coot. I feel bad because I keep thinking this would be a cool opening sentence – and then I could go on to show how this is a good example of… but right about then something else swoops into my mind and washes that idea away, and I’m not telling you what idea it was because I have no fucking idea, because I can’t concentrate on anything long enough to remember it five minutes later.
It now occurs to me that perhaps these are symptoms of already being a doddering old fool, much as the overuse of italics could be seen as a sign of a decreasing facility with language and thus a need to resort to ever more typographical tricks to make one’s writing seem vibrant and relevant, emphasis callously and frivolously superimposed over meaningless text in a pathetic effort to fool you, the reader, whom I love desperately. I know, you’re thinking “He’s saying that because he knows he’s the reader, and of course he loves himself, the narcissistic fool.”
Ah, but do I love myself? Maybe I loathe myself. How would you know, really? Notice how you only have to replace the “v” in love with “ath” to totally reverse the meaning? Merely a coincidence? I think not, and you’d think not, too, if you just thought about it.
So, what’s everybody doing for summer vacation? I’m planning to catch up on the laundry, maybe shellac a few picture frames. I could come over if you need some company. I’m a little eccentric, but I totally hide it in public, so you wouldn’t be embarrassed. I could bring some killer weed. I don’t have any, but I’d get some if you wanted it. We could pitch a tent in the back yard and stay in it all night, and tell your parents not to come and check on us no matter what.
13 Replies to “Writer’s Blahk”
Wow, what a whirlwind. Love it.
That’s a really good example of how my brain works all the time. It was a very soothing read.
Did you say something about pitching a tent? I like that idea.
I LOVED the last paragraph.
This is all the pictogram or whutever you call it I got! Leftover sock bunny puppet! As for thinking about all that love stuff, I loathe stuff like that. What’s more, I can spell loathe and you CAN’T! You see, in 10 or 15 years, you’ll be worn down and worn out. In fact, I’m not sure you’ll last five years. I know I won’t!
And I’m sure my name ain’t Ruth!
My name still ain’t Ruth. How’s this? Anyway? Gravatar says it’s changed.
It ain’t changed. Good grief.
Ron – Your Gravatar has now updated. The problem was that my site saves Gravatars locally, so it won’t take so long every time to go get it from gravatar.com. I deleted the locally saved old one, and now the new one shows up. Can I bring you a beer, or a magazine?
kStyle – Windy, for sure.
Theresa – In the moonlight, babe.
Laurie – I know what you like…
I find myself in this state quite a bit. Even though tons of stuff is happening that I probably could write about, the speed at which these events come and go leaves me with little inclination to record it.
Hey, my summer plans sound a lot like your summer plans, except for the killer weed part… I’m planning on killing lots of weeds, does that cound? We were thinking of going to Vancouver this summer, but travel plans are on hold til the hubby finds a job (the slacker).
Summer plans! Soaking up the sun and simulataneously doing tons of reading. By the end of it, I’m going to be bronzed and even intelligenter 🙂
Come on over, dammit, you always tease. And for the love, bring the killer weed. It’s not like there’s anything else to do here. I mean, after the tent-pitching is said and done.
I hate to be the one to say it, being new here and all, but you are definately showing signs of doddering. I know. I’ve been a doddering old fool for quite some time now. And, hey, I like it.
not blogging for a week? HORRORS! you’re doing better than I — I missed an entire month 🙂
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