14 February 2009

stream-of-consciousness xiv

i don't really write these here anymore, because i feel it no longer suits what i want this blog to be. but i'm at work on a saturday morning, mildly hungover, and realizing that when i was putting things in a bag yesterday i forgot not only socks, but also anything to do at work. and i have nothing to write in.

i think i've come to this shift from my own house once this semester.

this isn't really stream of consciousness. i'm thinking too much.

i haven't written more than a line or two in my paper journal in the past several days--i've been too busy living to take the time to write it down. the last time i did get to write there, one of the things i jotted down was along the lines of, "writing here is similar to sleeping: the day can't be completed or resolved until i do." which sometimes makes for interesting weekends....

don't get me wrong. i've slept.
perhaps not as much as i should, but i feel rested.

my internal radio is particularly interesting this morning. actually....i'm not sure if that's true. but i'm amused by it. woke up with "devil in jersey city" which eventually became "i kissed a boy" and it's going back and forth between the two....just started playing the intro to "porch songs" which is one of chris pureka's only two happy songs....i wonder if that will play through.

"haven't you ever wondered?"
"no, never"
"you just haven't met the right one yet"

so many times during that dinner i had to just smile to myself and try so hard not to laugh out loud.

the Vagina Monologues will need their own entry.
but not yet.
Briana's coming tonight! i'm excited.
every night, there's one person in the audience. funny how that works.

i want to write a response to that comment on "storytelling, part 2," but i think that will merit its own entry too. some good questions in that one. and i'm definitely not done with the storytelling sequence, but it will be of unpredictable length. i'd like it to continue all year, if not longer.

now i've forgotten the rest of the things i wanted to write down....or i'm trying too hard to censor. it shouldn't be hard to tell. i should be working on something, i'm sure, but i have a hard time with that....i want to go home and go back to sleep. wasn't that last saturday, too? that didn't end too well. i ended up blowing off the whole day. my little eventually supplied enough force to overcome my inertia and we went to the waterfront, got the almost-last couple of things for my outfit. (the very last came during a solitary excursion to the south side on monday. sometimes i like wandering this city by myself. need to get to the strip district again soon. here's that stream-of-consciousness we were talking about.)

what i really want to write about....this is bad. see, it's all i've talked about for the last....weeks? i don't know. there are the people who are getting annoyed with me, the people who are living vicariously through me, and the people who won't admit they're getting annoyed with me. and then there's the entire cast of the monologues: "so how are things with that girl??" and i smile and say "i don't know!"

or when i'm walking with my roommate and we're talking and i say something and then i pause and at the exact same moment i say "i'm in trouble" and he says "you're screwed"....

and i write this because i want you to read it, and i know you will read it, but i don't want to take responsibility for it. so i stop before saying the things i actually want to say, because that might change things. and this, i do not want to do. (gah, yoda-speak. coming from where? stupid brain. it causes me all sorts of problems. thinking too much and not thinking enough.)

i said a lot of stupid things last night, and i'm sorry for some of them.

scream loud....scream sayonara.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Wow. I'm honored to be mentioned by name.

"Every night, there's one person in the audience." I feel like there's bigger meaning in that and it once again has to do with storytelling, beyond the trite concept of having one's story touch one other person's life.
I'm just not sure what it is.

~B.