BUG EYES

So just now I was “tidying” (a helpful spin on the whole cleaning thing I picked up in England) and there was this cup of coffee from who knows when, and my first inclination was to take a sip, and then I shook my head at myself, poured it out and thought “you know you love coffee when this is your life.”  Isn’t it interesting how I thought the kinds of words that people use on social media?

I think maybe the age of information is slowing down.

No.  I just wish it was.

The truth is that it’s changing us.  I never thought “hashtag” would mean anything to me, but it does, and I kind of love the internet.  Hate it at the same time, but I do.

Changing paradigms.  I wish smarter people could read this and make an RSanimate about it; whatever.  Times they are a changing.  I think it feels different to me because I have a hyper active mind, but am somewhat of a hippy in that I have this innate resistance to inorganic things like cell phones, iPods, and computers.  I just don’t like ’em. I use them, but I never kept up with the times like everyone else growing up.  I never got an iPod.

Shrug.  This is the most embarrassing admission of them all: More than anything I think on some level when I was 12 and the “millennium hit” that everything was going to change, and maybe I had an idea of how it would be from all that hippy dippy love the 90s picked up from the 60’s so what I’m trying to say is that… hm… I was gonna make a jab at myself, but I think what is more true is that that “idealized reality” I had of Earth when I was 12 is maybe happening for me now, or coming to fruition, or there is this burgeoning energy for it, or something.   I don’t know.  It’s pretty cool that a blog can fulfill me in the ways that it does.  I had no idea.  I was feeling like a total piece of shit a second ago, and then I just decided to share my thoughts on that cute little coffee moment.  Oh God I want to vomit.  I think this is more what writing is.  At some point you’ve got to draw the line and be an individual.  I happen to be a talented writer.  I happen to always have been one.

My story, my thoughts, and opinions are kind of specific, and at the same time I feel so able to write anything from any point of view with any kind of slant.

There’s something nice about writing from my own particular voice, even if I am unsure if this is my true voice; I think this is the writer’s journey?  I want to vomit again.  I think life’s been rough on me and I hate the corny sappy shit I used to love and I just have to go now.

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