Sunday, April 17, 2005
Frustrated musing on the futility of life. Mine moreso than yours.
I wanted to write a book. I’ve always wanted to write a book, for as long as I can remember, longer actually, because I don’t really remember very much. My only problem was I could never decide what I could write about. I’ve never felt comfortable with writing about people my own age. For one thing I haven’t been at my own age long enough to feel like an expert on it. I’ve never felt qualified to write about people older than me either, seeing as how I've NEVER been at their age. As far as writing about people who are younger than me, well, that’s no good either, since, like I said, I really don’t remember very much. So there's a problem there somewhere. A conundrum if you will. Even if you won't, because this really isn't about you see, it's about me. And my inability to write intelligently on you and people like you. So maybe it is about you. You bastard. Why won't you make yourself easier to write about? Maybe if you were more one-dimensional and goverened by more simplistic motivations. Work with me here. Ok, I've complained enough for today's post. Maybe I should change my blog's name to "Underdeveloped Bitching."
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7 comments:
Most of the time I am taller. Damn. This was a well-hidden comment. I would never have found it if it weren't for those meddling kids and their damn dog.
My psyche is ill at ease with the disappearance of the next-to-penultimate comment in this thread...
Just for the record, an entity referring to itself as "Sage" had asked me what the difference was between myself and... Oh for Pete's sake. I'm not exactly doing anything to bolster the idea that I am not insane here, am I? In my defense, while rarely coherent, I am, with only minor exceptions, mostly harmless...
As if I would ever mock someone whose name derives from one of my favorite spices. Now if your name were alspice, or lemon zest, then we might have issues...
Ok Sage... now you're starting to upset me.
As it happens, the sage is curled up in a ball weeping at the moment. Says he feels like his words lead to meaninglessness and that he wonders if he should ever speak at all since it's only a matter of time before they disappear into thin air. So I'm writing on sage's behalf and on Mike's behalf. Mike isn't merely talking to himself. There seems to be a glitch in the space/time continum at the moment where anything which demands a response will be erased. So I guess that means the only acceptable post should be purely rehetorical for the time being. Which makes the sage happy as rhetoric has played a huge roll in his life as it is. But the initial question was a good one. Whatever that was...
I can't help but fear that by responding to "On behalf of the sage" I will somehow be destroying him...
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