Ever since I’ve started writing semi-regularly, I feel like I’ve gotten super weird.
Like I’ve lost all ability to socialize with other human beings and I just find myself standing crosseyed and painless in the world- as David Byrne would say. I look like I’m staring at a giant naked man disco dancing on top of yo’ head while you’re talking to me. Half the time I’m floating off into space with my lamé rocket suit because I’m thinking about what to write that day. I’m always thinking about what to write. The other half of the time I look like someone slapped me upside the head because I’m trying to find the words to say. Talking in your head a lot and regurgitating those words onto a keyboard, then constantly reediting those words and when you don’t like those words going to an online thesaurus to change them, makes for awkward fun time when you finally open your mouth in public.
While someone is talking to me I begin a sentence only to find myself stopping because I’m trying to look for a larger and more sophisticated word to say. Low and behold I have no online resource to turn to during times of linguistic desperation.
I’ve finally become your bitch, blog. You wholly succeeded. I’ve fought and I’ve fought but you finally did me in. Much like that creepy English surgeon who holds Sherilyn Fenn hostage in Boxing Helena, you’ve taken away my metaphorical limbs, blog…and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I’m not really sure what that means, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
Sigh…I hope I don’t turn to drinking…
Hopefully one day I’ll just spontaneously bust into break dancing at my desk like this guy when the overload gets too much…