Notice how I disappear so easily these days? No, I haven’t been any busier… haven’t been any lazier either. Haven’t watched any movies, haven’t gone out a lot, haven’t been studying too much, haven’t been sleeping too much, just where have I been?
I’ve been right here, but probably still far, far away. Limbo, it is. Not here and yet, not there. Detachment through lack of accomplishment, it is.
I haven’t been idle; I’ve written 23/25th of a song and about half of a poem, but I abandoned both just as I was readying them for unveiling. Where does the enthusiasm go?
I began the song in beautiful flow…lyrics gyrating forth obscenely like concubines onto the harem floor that was my paper. The next morning I took a look at it and…naaah.
The poem: my first serious attempt at poetry (not rhyme) since I was 6 or 8 or something like that. It started strong, verse with meaning, read-between-the-lines stuff. Next morning…naaah. “Too juvenile.” I say. Ok, it was titled Vampiric Fantasy, but don’t read too much into that.
But, that’s all. I get no joy from this anymore. There are times when the urge to write is just so compelling, but I pick up the pen and…nothing. Not a word emerges and on the off chance that ink does flow, more likely than not, it’ll just end badly like the fruit of my three weeks past. What I’ve labeled as my ‘Songs’ aren’t really songs at all; I just want them to be. They’ve got lyrics but then, who doesn’t, huh? No, they just rhyme nicely and that’s about it. You couldn’t even call them poetry. And poetry? Who am I to delve the depths of profundity? Mindless profundity at that! Time to ‘fess up Rocky…I can’t really write.
I haven’t written anything mildly interesting lately and I don’t think I could be the columnist type, with a finger in everything and Bush jokes spewing out my butt crack. See…unfettered crassness gets me nowhere.
Everybody has a gimmick, an angle. I thought writing was my thing. Guess I was wrong. I have nothing left. At this rate I should just dress like a tree and stand by the road. That should complete the picture of invisibility.
But hey, I didn’t say I was going anywhere; Freedom of Speech and all that jazz…even if I can’t write well, I can still write. So keep suffering my onslaught, for I’m nevergone…
Hah! Take that Backstreet Boys!!
The most terrifying thought I’ve had lately is this: The only way I can get anywhere in my life is if I stop trying to enjoy it.
I’m so afraid this might be true.
The Who – Baba O’Reilly
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