Saturday, June 29, 2013

written before midnight, posted after midnight - and now, goodnight

(Okay...wrote this one actually today, unlike the other two I posted today, which were not actually written today.  It appears that I sort of wrote it once before already (entitled I Hope Perfectionism Falls Down the Stairs and Gets Gout). Well, too bad.  I wrote it today (okay, technically, since it is after midnight, it was in fact yesterday...) and I'm posting it not-today-but-feels-like-today-because-I-haven't-gone-to-bed-yet.
Ah, OCD...it makes for some interesting sentences.)

So....
I have some things I have to "work out", personally, and I always mean to get around to writing, and I think better when I can write it down, so...
"Problem solved!"
It may not be interesting to ANYONE but me, however, writing it here and there results in
= collecting paper = too much, so am now going to be doing sort of diary/website/etc
on this blog. Probably no-one reading anyway; suits me fine if it's just me & maybe a friend or two peering at it.

The thing is...
when I am away from a screen or paper (really I hardly ever have written anything on a screen, only some poems in the college computer lab a lifetime ago --
still, as mentioned b/f, there is too much paper)
anyway, I come up with insights, minor "voila"s, etc, bits of things -
so many thoughts and it's hard to hold them if i don't type with closed eyes they will disintegrate
i will get hung up b/c the thoughts they are such a tide
so yeah, I was upstairs and having thoughts i wanted to put into a blog, like
"indecision kills"
Grr - I came straight downstairs and started typing, with my eyes closed == but I had already lost the thoughts as I began to type.
I know that perfection is my enemy, and so is form and expectation (and sometimes self-in(tro)spection)
I wonder if i am the only one who write (types) "blind" - out of sheer necessity?
i know the distraction element is so incredible in my mind at any given time
One thing I listened to was radio remix - tonight's show informed it somehow but how?
I remember that the in between times of life informed was what i was going to type about yesterday
all swept away now by new thoughts but what were they? they are leaking out of my head the more seconds pass that i am away from their original conception
radio the man was talking about bit bits various flotsam and jetsam and puts them together well that is what this blog is going to be b/c that's what
it was meant to be
we'll see
but anyway there are things in the emails to retrieve
and yesterday I was thinking about the in between moments of everyday life and maybe how I am, when in those in-between moments? But I can't remember exactly.
GAH! so frustrating!!!!!
I've written a thousand opening sentences for blogs, in my head, but they never stay long enough for me to put them IN the blog.

This will be the next blog entry anyway - screw it.


Free Writing on a Thursday Night Most Likely Months Ago

(this was actually written, I think, sometime early in 2013??? Apparently it was a Thursday)
(btw love MGee & NCIS in general so title is a nod to that)

Blank page - aaaaugghh!

So: Freewriting...
 - humidity sucks - "too much information/runnin' through my brain" - what is most and least interesting to write here, what's good enough or not enough? - Fascinating cat : will he wink back? - sky gets dark so fast, once it starts - where do all the thoughts go when you try to chase them around and corral them they dry up, disappear? puff of smoke - if I open up something in my brain just right, a torrent comes out - thought torrent - if it could just leak it directly through the pen but it's not a pen it's my fingers on keys; if only one of my fingers could double as a pen; stupid brain full of thoughts at all the wrong times then they hide if torrent is required! It figures, those klutzes; still better to at least spill some thoughts - they get SO majorly backed up in me then fester yes sit around and mildew-  not good precious must get out and shake thoughts loose always think better flows better when I'm moving don't know why - "movin' on from town to town" - aha: all the songs that have moving in the title maybe I'll make into a list; could make another blog called Free Space "watch this space" always a new different list or observation or just random words -  btw I highly recommend magnetic poetry even if you have no room on the fridge just attach something magnetic to the wall - "over me, over you/over everybody" - heavy the laptop is, and such a weak battery, so not actually as portable as I'd imagined - still a vast improvement over monitor and stays-in-one-place PC - was listening to a good episode of either Talk of the Nation or Charlotte Talks, on NPR, about technology of maps on phones and soon even in the lens of your glasses; it could cut you off from the world maybe - got to be careful of that - it is so important to walk down to the pond, tiny and polluted though it is, just to see maybe one frog, hear six or more frogs' enormous and eerie voices, and see tadpoles actually jump just a bit out of the water coming to the surface to get food. A better memory would help, in re: how thoughts flow so much better when I'm moving mustn't wreck the car after all when brilliance (okay maybe more like inspiration) hits or when epiphanies occur - still working on the "perfect" dictaphone set-up for car.  "Too much information/ drivin' me insane" - how odd, the sheer volume of ideas that someone has already had, thus the feeling 'it's as though this song was written for me!', 'how did he know I'd feel that way?', nothing new under the sun and all that rot yeah yeah, but sometimes it's the juxtaposition of when you hear the song just on the heels of what your see or when you think of the song just as you've heard words the song describes or leads to the words pointing a path down the runway straight into Sting's voice and tight bass and guitar and that perfect sax climbing and dipping over and over....  It's hard to just stream, let all words out, not self-edit especially hard to hit right keys when eyes closed so it's a good thing I took typing in high school (do kids even take typing anymore?) helps to have your hands hover above the board, hit the keys as they were trained to do long ago -  my grandmother knew shorthand; looks like hieroglyphics to me - lots of things we're losing as I grow older, as people go away and years pass - we lose shorthand, languages, some arts and crafts - one major thing we are losing or have lost is to take time to do a thing or make a thing - when there was no shortcut to cooking or cleaning it wasn't maybe better quite, but more real - it's so hard to remember to Be Here Now, but, of course, it's not always due to  technology...I used to burrow deep inside my own soul not just inside my mind it was like I took my mind and therefore my self down into the pit of my stomach so that only a warm husk of a body was sitting in the seat it was there to hold a place to look at but vacant because my entire soul was locked far within the interior well, sightless no sound no awareness of surroundings of people of furtive looks of snickers - but of course also losing awareness of the good parts I would especially do this when in church youth group functions...funny how much nicer, healthier, less 'dangerous' an environment you can get amongst a bunch of D&D-playing drama-geek gamers than you sometimes do on a youth group mission trip. Satisfaction, that's what I need to work on: yes, work on Being Here Now, and on being satisfied and not always questing after more or better, or wondering if I'm missing something-  must get out of my own head more often!
Yikes -- 10 pm and no dinner yet -- so this is the end of this blog.  Happy Thursday to all, and to all a good night.

I Hope Perfectionism Falls Down the Stairs And Gets Gout

Perfectionism is the enemy, as I pointed out in my First Blog Ever:

"Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a sh**ty first draft. I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they're doing it.”
― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

Well - sigh - it turns out that I am even more scared of not doing things perfectly than I thought I was, because it's already...
all the things...
is it that I...
[WARNING: VERY LITTLE CORRECT PUNCTUATION TO FOLLOW; ALSO, TREMENDOUSLY LONG RUN-ON WANDERING JAMES-JOYCE-MEETS-E-E-CUMMINGS STUFF FOLLOWS]
dammit got in front of the screen and now can't think of earlier thoughts - why don't I have a better memory?
may thus be making this blog private or semi-private or something to that effect
see i feel hesitant sometimes re: posting pontification / journal entry type stuff; don't want to sound self-involved -- have been advised that... or not advised exactly...it's just that you see SO may negative comments on things you see on the web, anywhere (trolls, etc). one tries to be clever on fb which translates most often into being scathingly witty -- but then if you think about putting yourself out there to be scathed, well........
So I was originally going to do a carefully balanced blog (representative of my scattered nature): sometimes frippery, other times making a point (but never being dull or self-indulgent gods forbid), and some times a list, or here or there a poem - I could see it all in my minds eye; however i have a long history of thinking "i see it in my mind's eye wait a minute the reality isn't looking like my mind's eye aw never mind" however in this case that will simply result in more ruttin' paper cluttering up our condo when I have already have QUITE ENOUGH PAPER already, thank you! (i means i'm not a candidate for Hoarders yet, but there is at least one room of this condo that begs to differ......)  Thus the need to keep my diary on screen -- see, I write not really to show anyone but more as therapy. i mean, I do think i'm a good poet and i will show people my poetry usually but for a long time now the only way to try to sort out how i really feel when i am frustrated and flummoxed is to write it out - spill it all out onto the page and then try to make sense of it.  Unfortunately, when actual paper is used, you have to physically keep track of the paper, and i am hideously disorganized.
Anyway, it occurred to me that I get enthused about a project or idea or way of living or new personal fad, then it turns out to be harder or take longer or just not turn out to be what i expect so i quit and say never mind - or something overwhelms me and i literally hide in bed or at least avoid - I am very good at mental/emotional dodgeball and it's not good for me.
One of the biggest things that sends me running is stuff along the lines of politics/injustice - such a big messy tangle of things like tons of cat hair trapping dust in loose nests connected by long human hairs and some lint - cat owners can picture it well - JEEZ. Anyway, reading about prison unfairness links to corruption and racism and poverty and selfishness and they link to discrimination and genital mutilation and sexism and repression and it just goes on and on and on......and i get so often torn between wanting to fix it and feeling like i just can't stand to draw another breath if i have to keep facing the awfulness of it looming, so i run and hide & am therefore totally unhelpful in fixing said problem.

P.S. interesting: this spell checker just flagged "pontification" but entirely missed "excpecte" (I type haphazardly when I am trying to type fast). Hmmm.