I should be thinking. My brain should be off on tangents, I should be coming up with big ideas and deep thoughts. I should be able to think something. Instead I can only come up with the latest lemming that caught my eye. The fuck is wrong with my brain?
I wrote something for
mistersleepless' Fast Fiction Friday, along with a few hundred other people. Since telling people automatically negates my chances of getting anywhere[0] I shall post the story here on Monday.
"This is the problem with LJ, we all think we are so close, and we know nothing about each other. I'm going to fix it. I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about. Then post this in your LJ and find out what people don't know about you."
[0]: Macro-quantum phenomenon I have noted: The more people know about something I've done while the outcome is uncertain, the worse it tends to turn out.
I wrote something for
mistersleepless' Fast Fiction Friday, along with a few hundred other people. Since telling people automatically negates my chances of getting anywhere[0] I shall post the story here on Monday."This is the problem with LJ, we all think we are so close, and we know nothing about each other. I'm going to fix it. I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about. Then post this in your LJ and find out what people don't know about you."
[0]: Macro-quantum phenomenon I have noted: The more people know about something I've done while the outcome is uncertain, the worse it tends to turn out.
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- digitalraven
- Digital Raven
- Zero Point Information
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Admiration... I admire Grant Morrison. He's done a lot of drugs, got involved in numerous fuckups both real and metaphysical and introduced a generation to real magic by way of the Invisibles. There are parts of his life I don't want -- the duel with the Scorpion Loa springs to mind -- and parts I do -- drugs and being paid to write about them, and paid enough that I could afford the next batch. But I admire him because he has seized life by the short and curlies and got what he wanted out of it.
Wake up around one because I've been enjoying the fact I can live on the zone I have installed, kicking the sleepdep in the crotch.
Breakfast on fried bacon, sausage, black pudding and mushrooms. In sandwiches.
Watch some DVD or other. Right now I'm working my way through the second season of the Justice League cartoon and have gone back to Black Books again. Get some spark of an idea for something to write.
Around three, go screaming off around the local countryside on my two-wheeled transportation. Ignore speed limits, annoy cars, wish I had gears and a bigger fucking engine, wish I had more than a provvo license, wish I had one of the new three-and-a-half-grand Honda bikes that'd make up for all of it by having gears and not being a scooter.
Pause to take some snaps on the cameraphone in some spot near fields. Write a short something on said phone to which said snaps could be a backdrop. Scream back home at ludicrous speeds.
Spend a few hours reading and catching up with the web in a big way. Demolish chunk of a paperback or a graphic novel.
Around eight, head on out for a big fucking curry. Madras or, if I've been drinking, vindaoo.
Write the thing for which the idea has been charging around my brain since watching stuff earlier in the day. Get two thousand words out. Post it. Wait for the adulation to come flooding in because I really am a shallow fucking comment whore who writes for attention.
Spend the next six hours free of the overmind, fucked up on shrooms. Make notes of everything in the hopes of inspiration.
Go to bed at just gone five in the morning, having greeted the dawn.
I've been thinking about getting myself licensed to pilot some kind of two-wheeled death machine. Motorbike riding, skydiving. Pretty soon I'll be the coolest person ever. Then, once I'm the epitomy of cool, I'll have the power to bring happy pants [see early 90s] back into fashion.
First you get the cool, then you get the power. Then you get the women ... ... hang on, that doesn't help me at all!