an overactive imagination, clumsy awkward writing, and a cultivated immaturity thrown into one bundle of well-intentioned insecurity (with flagrant abuse of the parenthetical to boot)
posted by Le Synge Bleu at 3:04 PM
I have this recurring nightmare that I'm asked to define myself in some way in precisely 1200 characters or less. The words parade around me in a grotesque circle dance to Disney's "It's a small world after all", gradually inprisoning me in the box they've formed around me. I can't seem to escape this box-o-words, despite numerous desperate editing attempts, and the words are mocking me and shouting slanderous epithets galore about my semantic failures. I wake up, sobbing, and thankful to be in my bed and not at a computer frantically typing and deleting like a madwoman. Clearly, I'm a giant neurotic contradiction in and of myself (who gets way too little sleep to boot). Despite my massive insecurity, I can be pretty fun though...I mean, who doesn't love self depricating humor...it's funny right? Right? Ha ha? I try mightily to live life as one huge adventure, but the majority of the time it ends up being a bit of a farce. My new evaluative criteria when it comes to life experiences tends to be, "Will it make a good story one day? Then it was worth it." I also have an evil man hating attack cat that I adore and everyone else flees from.
3 Comments:
That's truly frightening.
lol, Synge =)
Have you heard Ailyn's singing audioblog on Dead Letter's Office (I think it was called 'To Nobody's Child')
You know, your singing reminds me of 'The Indigo Girls,' or maybe - what's the name of that group that does "bald-headed men?"
sgroovy, you have no idea how much you just made my day. i've absolutely adored indigo girls since i was 16 years old!
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