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Dec. 18th, 2003 09:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
robinblokeI want to write; But I'm not sure what, small snippets of ideas keep popping into my head and threaten to burst out into a paragraph or so of random prose, story or... just plain something or other. This is annoying because so far nothings happened, I've had several stop start grabs at what I'm thinking and I just know as soon as I walk home for lunch I'll braindump something, thankfully I have my dictaphone with me; well I think I do anyway.
Concepts spewed through my head so far include giant clouds of marshmallows, the futility of gathering time just to waste it, the colour of the number seven, small pieces of topaz that might be used to build artificial lemons, black and white dancing ewok minstrel shows and other stuff that I probably shouldn't think about as it gives me a headache.
Are headaches just your brain warning you to stop thinking about something?
I identity with way too much, way too easily sometimes. I hid a mood (behind the couch) and now I find myself linking my life, universe and wavelength to anything and everything around me; any coincidence will do, especially in music and songs. But even piles of sticks if I'm feeling particularly open. Sticks and stones.
I remembered what it is about live music, you feel it as much as hear it; feel the air moving, and your internal organs shaking with the bass.
Martians would have a field day with copyright issues if they landed; I can see lawyers popping up all over the place for them, and alien rights groups. Probably safer for them to stay out of sight and just appear in sitcoms.
It's all been done before, just this time we added more soya sauce.
And pan down, past the clouds, into the fields. Look for the lone grazing cow in the field unaware of anything other than the grass she's eating.
Now ask yourself, is that contentment?
Concepts spewed through my head so far include giant clouds of marshmallows, the futility of gathering time just to waste it, the colour of the number seven, small pieces of topaz that might be used to build artificial lemons, black and white dancing ewok minstrel shows and other stuff that I probably shouldn't think about as it gives me a headache.
Are headaches just your brain warning you to stop thinking about something?
I identity with way too much, way too easily sometimes. I hid a mood (behind the couch) and now I find myself linking my life, universe and wavelength to anything and everything around me; any coincidence will do, especially in music and songs. But even piles of sticks if I'm feeling particularly open. Sticks and stones.
I remembered what it is about live music, you feel it as much as hear it; feel the air moving, and your internal organs shaking with the bass.
Martians would have a field day with copyright issues if they landed; I can see lawyers popping up all over the place for them, and alien rights groups. Probably safer for them to stay out of sight and just appear in sitcoms.
It's all been done before, just this time we added more soya sauce.
And pan down, past the clouds, into the fields. Look for the lone grazing cow in the field unaware of anything other than the grass she's eating.
Now ask yourself, is that contentment?
