[bland]

untitled by eriver


___so he decided to write about the things he knew about. _but there were less of them. many less. cardboard boxes. things with four corners and straight lines and rooms with harmless air-conditioning.

so he decided to write about things he knew nothing about. _but there were too many of those. everything in the boxes, and bordered by the lines, things entrapped on one side of the line or the other, and the question(s) of whether the line ever ends and if it does, what happens at its tail-end :: none of which really matters. (it doesn't).

sometimes you feel nothing. and that's fine. writing about 'nothing' is pretty hard. 'nothing' is actually a pretty amazing place to be, such vastness - caverns of emptiness - think an anti-ocean, the whole volume of an ocean but worth of emptiness and silence. it's not easy to express. sometimes you feel allamazingeverything at once. that's crazy ADD writing right there. you just go nuts, start at one end and run like a madman till you drop.

but then there's sometimes you feel... beige. missionary position. 4/4. generic questions HR always wants you to fill out with catchphrases like 'leadership' and 'enthusiasm'. when it gets like that there's just nothing to say. there's no poetry to such blandness. none none none. and that's what makes it hard to write.

i need sex with strangers or rooftop sunrises or children with little red shoes who tell me stories or middle of nowhere car accidents or just accidents or _t_h_i_n_g_s_ freaking-some-any-please--goddamn thing to happen to give me a heart attack small enough to remind me i'm alive and there's enough amazingness worth dying for to bother.

there used to be a bottled-up feeling i'd get. i would let it build up, and just let it sit and sort itself out into thoughts and images. then i write it out. it would come out more-or-less how it had planned itself to be and that'd be that. an exhalation. very nice. __but it hasn't been around in a long while. no bottled up feeling. maybe i'm not alone enough. i don't know how people manage marriage. someone around, all the time, around around around. just moving and speaking and even when they're not moving or speaking you can hear their noise and you know they're there. causes shifts in the weight of air i think. temperature changes. two noises and it's a whole different universe. alone is it's own universe. it won't share, it's selfish as all everything. it's an endangered species, everywhere i go there are its enemies trying to capture it. and of course it's like a rainbow when you have it in your hands it's gone. poof! and gone. maybe you hold a butterfly coloured roughly the same way, but that's not what you were after. 3 million butterflies maybe. arranged in the right way. pin-pointed in just the right spot(s) and from the correct angle it'll look like a rainbow. ___just maybe though.

dear god why am i bored? i dont' 'do' boredom. i don't get bored i have too much to read. but i am bored. tired and stifled and not really sure what to change because my usual practice is to change... well... everything. you. even new eyes.

i'll go the gym again. and get a girlfriend with blue hair who uses the C-word alot and then recites Montaigne. buy stuff. not sure what. an ipod? is that right?, is that a good place to start? and i'll stop going to classes and instead sit and read Just and Unjust Wars by Michael Waltzer (which is pretty much the only thing i feel like doing right now). oh: and be a sailor. that would be fun. the piano is annoying me because i've been playing annoying music. so ignore that. take up the accordion instead.

all of the above.

kick some blood back into the stone.