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I think if one wants to understand my life, and me, I should point out these details that create the mood or state of mind that I walk into a situation with. Let�s take just now as an example. For years upon years I have been a journal-person, I�ve got my large box packed full of journals, I�ve got mounds of stray ideas hastily jotted down, I�ve got sketchbooks filled with ugly scribbles. For years I resisted relying on the computer for journaling. Ten years ago when I first moved away to room with my best friend, a man of letters, a scribe of sorts, a story teller only, possibly for another language or race of beings perhaps. Let�s say his handwriting was.. lacking.. He made the switch then to only writing on campus computers which, while might have been quite a kind gesture for the friends he foisted his manic pen dribblings on, was a limiting proposition I thought. He no longer wrote unless he had a computer, and well, campus computers have only certain hours of operation and availability even when they are open. I carried on as I always had before, ranting, raving, jabbering my life and thoughts and doodles into my composition books. Yes, composition books, could there be anything better? The rorschach covers on heavy stock? I carried on this way until this past year in fact before I got an online journal and finally woke up to the realization that I have no idea when something I think is worthwhile will churn up in my brain and make it�s way to my fingers. I believe in that sort of chance. Anything at anytime might come to you and will want to be released or created. It is in a way the �first thought, best thought� that Kerouac and the Beats pushed forward; the chance, impulse, immediacy of emotion, the dynamic of the situation, these things don�t call for reservations, they just happen. You know, it�s the things that come suddenly into your head while trying to go to sleep that propel you to jump up and turn on the light and grab for something that will make a mark on something. Hold on.. Iris DeMent �Our Town� in my sad little headphones, which ties in later really.. Anyway, I finally started to realize that hmn, maybe it would be easier if I just typed it on in since you can spell check, edit, and post it if you wanted to online about a year ago, and slowly I�ve weaned myself off the paper and pen for writing. I hate the loss of character really, you can�t doodle in the margins of a word document when your mind drifts, or you don�t know the word for what you want to say, but you might be able to draw something that suggests a mindset or feeling, but laziness, the convenience and ease is the American lifestyle I suppose. So now I keep a word document always open and jot lines and thoughts down throughout the day. It uh.. makes for some interesting reading in a evidence-for-why-a-psychiatrist might suggest locking me away type of situation. Believe me, I�ve considered posting one of these strange bits, it�s like some crazed, verbal dioramas. I�m starting to think my �logic� is just fuzzy, mnemonic bits that start the domino rally of my free association head tumbling. I�m feeling good, it has been a good day despite itself, I�m feeling good beyond everything that gravitates in my idiot solar system of a life. I want to sit down and write about it, so I plop down and start to type away: �Me good, feel goodie good�, maybe it wasn�t that simple, maybe it was. Hardly anyone here that reads what I have to say really knows me in the flesh, so you don�t know; maybe I was splitting some atoms and kicking mental keister on Pythagorean instead of some idiot jokes� I MIGHT HAVE, you don�t know, *sniff*. Anyway, as soon as I start to type, my computer inexplicably goes into the hourglass cursor, locks up, and becomes completely unresponsive. I get confused for a second, try what I know that should bring it out, and that gets no response. I�ve just put on my headphones to listen to the music I�ve downloaded. I take off the headphones because I�m prolly going to have to do a cold restart, (unplug it, ok?). I bump the stylish headphones that came with my stylish compact mp3 player and they fall about 2 and a half feet and break on carpet! I restart my computer and it�s still not responsive, I tape the stupid headphones back together, and the mp3 player suddenly doesn�t know how to read a cd. At this point, (this is all in about a 3 minute period). I get up and go to get some more water and to smoke a cigarette and try to recall whatever it was I was going to say or write about in the first place. The sleeve of a cotton short-sleeve shirt could manage to catch on the cigarette holder indents on the ashtray, I had no idea, but it did. That�s right: Butts all over the floor, and not the attractive, spankable kind either! Never that kind!! I feel like I�m all of the three stooges combined in one body and there�s no camera to bring people a laugh, it�s just my consistent lousy luck and me. Man, I�m STILL finding soup splatters and bowl shards from last weeks diabolical. Go ahead; try being cool and aloof in my shoes. Sheesh. Lately I�ve just found that it�s much easier to just shut up and sit still.
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