My god this is painfully frustrating. Whether as a manifestation of me sucking or simply the severe state of broken that I exist within, I have a terrible memory.
All the old old people in the crowd are leaning back in their chairs right now screaming and laughing, finally celebrating the victory of their aged minds over the youth of America. To them I say fuck off. I remember just fine. I remember in clear vivid details, such as no film or digital can recreate; 70mm Imax has nothing on the dreams of my memories, played in perfect LIFE over and over. The only issue is that I cannot recall creative ideas when I need to write them the fuck down.
Such as now. This particular exercise holds no cosmic important. Certainly it could be argued that nothing I've ever done or am going to do has any significance, but the last threads of rational behavior have prevented that thought from truly pervaiding my brain. I digress. In this particular exercise, I was lamenting my lack of immediate memory; and I decided that for my own good I would write down this problem. Too bad all of the wonderful references and obscene syntactical structure departed my head almost instantaneously. For a period that could have been hours, as far as I'm concerned, I simply sat and stared at the blog entry window and could not even think of the topic of my entry. Alas, it has come back to me.
But today, I'm too afraid to write about it. And that, the feeling of restraint and emptiness, truly scares me.
All the old old people in the crowd are leaning back in their chairs right now screaming and laughing, finally celebrating the victory of their aged minds over the youth of America. To them I say fuck off. I remember just fine. I remember in clear vivid details, such as no film or digital can recreate; 70mm Imax has nothing on the dreams of my memories, played in perfect LIFE over and over. The only issue is that I cannot recall creative ideas when I need to write them the fuck down.
Such as now. This particular exercise holds no cosmic important. Certainly it could be argued that nothing I've ever done or am going to do has any significance, but the last threads of rational behavior have prevented that thought from truly pervaiding my brain. I digress. In this particular exercise, I was lamenting my lack of immediate memory; and I decided that for my own good I would write down this problem. Too bad all of the wonderful references and obscene syntactical structure departed my head almost instantaneously. For a period that could have been hours, as far as I'm concerned, I simply sat and stared at the blog entry window and could not even think of the topic of my entry. Alas, it has come back to me.
But today, I'm too afraid to write about it. And that, the feeling of restraint and emptiness, truly scares me.