I’ve been listening to Explosions in the Sky (or something similar – …Pandora) all day. When you are already busier than hell (how busy is that exactly??), doing the job of 2 ½ people and trying to stay sane.. (maybe should have clarified when I made that wish not to be bored at work… damn) probably would be a better idea to pick something with a bit more pep. Maybe I should have put on the “f-mix w/a lil p in butt” station. My friend sent it to me after the tall one made it during a movie night.. He has a way of putting some crazy shit together to make you whip your head around and ask wtf mate?? Where the name came from and what it has to do with electronica/dance hall/hip-hop/disco I don’t know. I try not to ask questions I may not want to know the answers to. So anyhow, I opted not to go with pep, but sort-of punk-ish ambient music that I really like. It hasn’t helped with the work-flow but has kept me from blurting things out in a frenzy of musical tourettes. I don’t like the looks I get when I blurt out “pee in the corner” or say the word “douche”. They don’t like that in government buildings. Incidentally, I like saying the word douche. Its always funny.
I’ve switched over to winamp in hopes that something on there will perk me up. Basically, for someone who talks as much as I do words are becoming more and more difficult. I said I wouldn’t and yet, I keep putting them through a filter so they don’t sound like the person that I really feel like. I wear a gas mask of recycled feelings, only sometimes I think I have the thing on backwards. I keep thinking it will all flow quickly and easily onto the paper. There are so many things swimming around it’s like a schizophrenic radio. There is no rhyme of reason to it, no pattern. My mind isn’t cooperating with me, more like its playing pong at high speed. I don’t want to play pong. I like video games, but not playing them. I want someone else to play and I’ll read a book while you shoot shit and kill the grubs or roll the little wheely ball to make birdie or whatever it is you’re mangling today. I don’t need all that on my hands. Anyhow… it’s not flowing easily. It’s jumping around in there like a kid trying to avoid a spanking. So here I sit… hands poised, thinking about many things; shoes and ships and sealing wax, maybe cabbages and kings too. I know I’m not the walrus, at least that’s something. I think I’m trying so hard to keep things cohesive so that when someone other than myself reads it, there can be a sort of understanding, something to follow. Why? Isn’t the point of this that it’s mine? That it’s a place of journaling and venting? Read it or don’t but maybe today I want to write a completely disconnected four paragraphs about three different things that have absolutely fuck all to do with each other. That’s what is happening to me in this moment.
women drivers, twit or tweet, m & m’s, what to eat, emoticomics, number crunching, headphones humming in my ears, pennants on the wall, jackhammers, beer and strippers, Alabama slammers and dirty slippers, lazy workers who won’t leave their desk, scotch tape, data, data and license plates, governmental red-tape crap, color my hair, and ZAP (it’s a sticker)…
hhhhmmmmm it is like schizophrenic radio in there. I need to pick a station already so I can be productive. I put on winamp to get me out of the ambient punk depression of my afternoon. I chose three or four artists and made a playlist of all of their stuff. (some 27 albums). I have now heard the same song in three forms in less than a half hour. hhhhhmmmm again. Good thing I like the song. Not inspiring to write, but I guess I can work to it, and I guess that’s better than playing pong.
beer, food, geekitude is one of my new favorite places…
