Do you ever find words coming out of your mouth that you didn’t know were stashed up in your brain? And as they’re coming out it’s sort of impossible to tell whether or not they actually fit into your current sentence and so you sort of check your listeners for clues::
Are they snickering at my witty comment? Or because I’ve just made terrible use of –faux pas- ?
The other day my good friend Brian Moore* telephoned to tell me of a magazine he was planning to start [which looks as though it’s on the backburner now and thus I’m going to stick these words up here for the moment. the nerve of some people starting projects all willy nilly I’d never do such a thing just ask my evergrowing box o’ started projects that should be congealing into a wad of finished project anyday now] and would I care to contribute anything?
Anything is sometimes a problem for me. [infinite possibilities, a blank page, how to choose all these choices and be satisfied when it is certain that at some point you could have made a -better- choice, blah blaah blaaaaah.] Unless it’s the opposite of a problem and then I’m a tiny child with a birthday budget in Toys R Us.
So a choice. Where to start.
Now maybe? Is now good for you?
It’s currently 1.14 am. I just woke up from a dream [stick with me] in which two of my close friends and I died in a car crash…it’s foggy, really foggy. like quicksand fog, let your shoelace get too close and next thing you know you’re nose deep in the stuff. We’re on a curve that just keeps curving and shouldn’t this curve be finished curving by now yes it most definitely should we’ve come full circle at this point maybe stop cranking the wheel so–
Every time these dreams happen I wake up with that whole THIS IS IT mentality::
Alright. Let’s LIVE. Stop with the bad habits. Stop numbing yourself. THIS IS IT you’re awake and alive and a second ago you weren’t, had accepted the fact that it was all over [you didn’t accept it. not at all. liar. quite the opposite in fact. there’s just too MUCH to do and a car crash? really? didn’t you have a different plan? escape from a burning building, a fantastic escape, a dash from beneath the collapsing rubble, turn around to admire the scene and BONK. flattened by the ambulance on it’s way to save you. but you don’t die from the smushing. nope you’re good and banged up but recovering when a mixup at the hospital sends you to be cremated. tragic irony (ironic tragedy?). beautiful. but no. instead fog, headlights. you’re checking out in a flaming cliché. maybe that suits you.]
And then there’s this little part of me. Nasty bugger. Same part that thinks things like::
Ew. Black people. [yes i’m completely racist]
Wouldn’t it be neat if they really did die? When I call Liz** tomorrow to make sure she’s alive, it’s her mom on the voicemail:: ‘I’m sorry. Liz is unavailable at the moment. And will likely remain in that state for every other moment as she died around 1.09 this morning. Car crash. How cliché. It was foggy, really foggy. Like quicksand fog, let your shoelace get too close and next thing you know you’re nose deep in the stuff. I guess they veered right into oncoming traffic. Headlights. Ouch. If you’d like to reach her, you’ll have to figure out some other means and since you already dreamt this, I bet you can come up with something.’
But then if they really did die I’d have to think of something else to write about.
So we’re going with the dream thing then? Think we can manage to make that interesting?
I tend to read interesting and/or funny [and/or inspiring and/or brain] and since I’m pretty self-centered that’s what I’d like to [attempt to] write because surely you like the same.
Interesting is much easier than funny. Everything is interesting. Even if it’s not interesting it’s interesting to figure out why it’s not interesting.
But writing funny. Much more difficult. Fail a joke out loud and everyone [even you. yes. laugh at yourself. you’re ridiculous.] can laugh at the failed joke, maybe even turn that failed joke into a joke itself if you’re good.
But fail a joke in text and not only are you unable to poke at it, spin it around a little, but it’s THERE. For good. Written proof of your faux pas.
[am i saying that right?]
[* love you. of course you can still use this if you’d like.]
[**Liz and Reed. i’m very glad you did not die. – love – ]