I have nothing to say today.
The most exquisite nothing at all.
It's so nothing you don't even know it exists.
Yet there it's not for you not to know.
I said I was going to say nothing, but I didn't. How could I? I couldn't. And can't.
It's nothing.
It never was. And never could or can be. So can I say it?
It's nothing.
It has no fixed point in time or space.
It does not exist by it's own definition.
Yet here it is. Nothing. And me saying it.
The most exquisite nothing.
Que soundtrack...
If You Like What You Read
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Just Takin' It Easy
Haven't been writing as much lately since the big escape. I guess when you accomplish something monumental, you tend to relax a bit afterwards. Not that helping someone escape from jail is monumental or anything compared to some other events in life, but it was for me anyway. Life changing, but at the same time, scary and somewhat discombobulating once you're out. (Now there's a word I haven't used in a while.) Familiarity is a two-edged sword though I guess, and even a place in hell can be comforting to lost souls on the move. Don't get me wrong, I certainly don't miss the place, but it was a place, somewhere to be, something to identify with, cozy up to. Jail IS hell though, no doubt about it. But then so are some other less obvious places we might not be aware of until "the blue spark hits the brain". Then it's the ol' good news/bad news scenario. The bad news is, you discover you're in hell. The good news is, you discover you're in hell. In other words, without knowing the bad news you can't transcend it. You can't change an unhappy situation you're unaware of. The effects are still there though, so sooner or later you will become aware of it and want to change things. Unless you're a sadomasochist or something.
Anyway, not writing much lately, yeah... guilty as charged. My lawyer could argue that the words "much" and "lately" are highly subjective, but it wouldn't change the fact that words are not appearing on paper. (Or PC monitor in this case.)
But then, they certainly are now, so what the hell am I complaining about then anyway?
Anyway, not writing much lately, yeah... guilty as charged. My lawyer could argue that the words "much" and "lately" are highly subjective, but it wouldn't change the fact that words are not appearing on paper. (Or PC monitor in this case.)
But then, they certainly are now, so what the hell am I complaining about then anyway?
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Feel Like Posting Some Pics (Okay, Well, One Pic)
Too Much Downton Abbey
Death is not a topic I particularly care to write about, but conscience impels me. (Too much Downton Abbey.) Conscience also scares the shit out of me. That's probably why we ignore it sometimes. Yet there it is, staring you in the mirror every morning. How to look is the trick I hear. Then you see what you wanna see, which hopefully is not opposed to what you need to see. That's when you really can get things done, I'm told. Or you could just not look so hard. Or not look at all... Mirrors? Who needs 'em.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not proud of pulling off a successful prison break. And I certainly wouldn't want to ever try it again. Just thinking about going back inside that place gives me claustrophobia. Nope. "Ain't never goin' back to my old school!" (Yeah, you know who gets cred for that famous song line if you have it to give, daddio.) There is however some form of satisfaction, which if you think about it is better than some prideful accomplishment. (But then again, what form of satisfaction isn't?) But breaking the law is usually not one of them. I'm certainly not anti-laws. We're nowhere near not needing them obviously. But law itself also, obviously has not stopped bad things from happening to people and the best we can hope for it to do is to keep evil in check until it is no more. How, when, why, what, where and whence that will happen is not info I'm privy to, or probably ever will be privy to. Secondary anyway. All you can do is sail your own ship toward calmer seas and warmer ports, and the rest is up to the universe.
Or go see a good horror movie. That'll show you your fears pretty well I'd say. Or give you some. I don't know anymore. Which came first? The chicken or the egg, or the guy who thought up the chicken and the egg idea? Horror movies are only good though if you see them with somebody, or a group of somebodies. I guess it's more fun to share the fear. Or maybe it's just easier to share the fear. Fear is not really fun when you get right down to it. At least not in real life. On the screen though, I guess we can at the very least, contain it. If it's a good film anyway. I mean, we certainly don't want films sending out their audiences into the streets half-crazed with fear and worry after they leave the theater, do we?
Have to admit, haven't seen one in a good while, the emphasis on the word good in that original horror movie description. {sigh} ...Can I possibly write anything more meaningless than that last statement? (Too much Downton Abbey.)
Okay, okay! ...I admit it. Mathew's death has disturbed me. (As if I wasn't already disturbed enough.) ...I mean, he JUST got the damn pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and then, "Bam!" he loses it all without even getting to fully enjoy it. What kind of deal is that? A rotten one I tell ya! ...Always the drama queen though I guess, that Mathew ...eh, fuck 'em, good riddance. I'm glad he's gone. I was getting tired of his act. He wasn't that much fun anyway. ...Stuffy lawyer. ...Fights like a sissy.
How many stages of grief are there?
And can movies and books and other such stories really have positive effects on us? Can art actually serve a purpose worth pursuing? Or is everyone like me, just a big bullshit artist with nothing better to do?
Inquiring minds want to know.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not proud of pulling off a successful prison break. And I certainly wouldn't want to ever try it again. Just thinking about going back inside that place gives me claustrophobia. Nope. "Ain't never goin' back to my old school!" (Yeah, you know who gets cred for that famous song line if you have it to give, daddio.) There is however some form of satisfaction, which if you think about it is better than some prideful accomplishment. (But then again, what form of satisfaction isn't?) But breaking the law is usually not one of them. I'm certainly not anti-laws. We're nowhere near not needing them obviously. But law itself also, obviously has not stopped bad things from happening to people and the best we can hope for it to do is to keep evil in check until it is no more. How, when, why, what, where and whence that will happen is not info I'm privy to, or probably ever will be privy to. Secondary anyway. All you can do is sail your own ship toward calmer seas and warmer ports, and the rest is up to the universe.
Or go see a good horror movie. That'll show you your fears pretty well I'd say. Or give you some. I don't know anymore. Which came first? The chicken or the egg, or the guy who thought up the chicken and the egg idea? Horror movies are only good though if you see them with somebody, or a group of somebodies. I guess it's more fun to share the fear. Or maybe it's just easier to share the fear. Fear is not really fun when you get right down to it. At least not in real life. On the screen though, I guess we can at the very least, contain it. If it's a good film anyway. I mean, we certainly don't want films sending out their audiences into the streets half-crazed with fear and worry after they leave the theater, do we?
Have to admit, haven't seen one in a good while, the emphasis on the word good in that original horror movie description. {sigh} ...Can I possibly write anything more meaningless than that last statement? (Too much Downton Abbey.)
Okay, okay! ...I admit it. Mathew's death has disturbed me. (As if I wasn't already disturbed enough.) ...I mean, he JUST got the damn pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and then, "Bam!" he loses it all without even getting to fully enjoy it. What kind of deal is that? A rotten one I tell ya! ...Always the drama queen though I guess, that Mathew ...eh, fuck 'em, good riddance. I'm glad he's gone. I was getting tired of his act. He wasn't that much fun anyway. ...Stuffy lawyer. ...Fights like a sissy.
How many stages of grief are there?
And can movies and books and other such stories really have positive effects on us? Can art actually serve a purpose worth pursuing? Or is everyone like me, just a big bullshit artist with nothing better to do?
Inquiring minds want to know.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Uptown Abbey
The only safe one in the whole sordid tale was the writer... I mean, people were getting bumped off left and right for no apparent reason at all other than just for the sake of a cheap gut punch.
Just like the English. I mean, who the hell's going to be the hero in the story now that Mathew has bit the dust?
Branson?!
The chauffeur?!
Come on, man!
I'm thinking about writing dialogue for the show though. Maybe I could write a little spin-off book of unheard quotes from the show. Call it, "Uptown Abbey".
"You're not a whore and you're not a bitch, but thank god, you do have your tendencies." ~ Mathew to Mary
Might sell. Ya never know.
Just like the English. I mean, who the hell's going to be the hero in the story now that Mathew has bit the dust?
Branson?!
The chauffeur?!
Come on, man!
I'm thinking about writing dialogue for the show though. Maybe I could write a little spin-off book of unheard quotes from the show. Call it, "Uptown Abbey".
"You're not a whore and you're not a bitch, but thank god, you do have your tendencies." ~ Mathew to Mary
Might sell. Ya never know.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)