My mind is absolutely blank right now, or at least it's supposed to be. I'm trying an experiment in free writing, just putting down whatever comes into my mind as it comes into my mind...but nothing's coming to mind.
So I'll do the most trite, hackneyed thing imaginable, and look around the room to see if anything inspires me. Hopefully, I'll come up with somethng better than "I look at the floor and see it needs sweeping." Nothing against George Harrison, but Holy Joe that's lame.
I try to give George a break, I really do, to appreciate how he must have felt when Lennon and McCartney shouldered him out of the way and did most of the songwriting themselves. But let's face it: They were better.
Even on Abbey Road, the album on which George unquestionably brought it--so much so that John realized he needed to do some serious work or risk being shown up--even there, with "Something", a lovely song in so many ways, but still: "Something in the way she woos me"?
Wow. So the whole point of this free writing thing is to set my mind wandering, and I still wind up writing about The Beatles.
Hey, at least I'm not writing YET AGAIN about Vincente Minnelli. Because I could do that, you know. I've never written about The Band Wagon in this space before. At least, I don't think I have.
Or Bush, I'm not whining about him, or posting Richard Thompson clips, or prattling on about my cats.
Well, okay, strike that last part, because as I was looking around for something to inspire me--which of course led to that whole pointless George harrison tangent--I of course saw Monika curled up on the floor, legs splayed in all directions, eyes clenched shut, so darned adorable I want to go over and hug her, but Monika doesn't like hugs and besides, I'm not supposed to stop writing, I'm not supposed to break the, um, spell.
So far all this experiment is proving is how hopelessly insular my world is, that my freed mind is unable or unwilling to explore new areas, so I keep doing the same thing over and over again, like poor Del Shannon forced to sing "Runaway" one more time, the same cycle that may well have led him to kill himself.
Wait! Suicide--that's one topic I've never really explored here. I've alluded to attempts in the past, my broken feet and scarred wrists, but I've never really explained the reasons behind the damage, maybe because...I'm scared? There are, apparently, dark places I avoid by choice, but perhaps that very reluctance is why I need to follow these paths, wherever they may lead.
So does that mean my postings here are about to get even more depressing than usual? Or will I just go back to posting shit I found on YouTube? Guess we'll have to wait and see...
