Please Kill Me.
Yea, yea so some people may complain about the recent changing of the beginning of these posts, but you know what, a cry for help can’t always have the same presentation right? Of course, then what am I suppose to do when the wolves come? Exactly that’s what I thought, so you you can zip it, lock it, and shove up your log cutter. (that’s anus for the less rectally inclined visionaries of the group.)
Any way, what have I been up too, well other then my normal morbid thoughts about the imminent decimation of all man kind (its creations along with it), my growing distaste for all things “pop-culture”, and my evolving egos plot to destroy the Id and superego, pretty good. Still grinding away at the old key and board trying to make some headway in this crazy thing we call literary pursuit. (super long sentence, was soooo trying not to go on a rant, was called a masochist today, that combined with my near stunning level of sobriety, makes for an obscenely self-aware author. Don’t worry kids Uncle sadist still has some less than nice things to say, just keeping it a little classier today.)
Besides that for some reason this AMAZING instrumental soundtrack (link here, Focus Music Alpha Waves you other writers get in here and check this out, definitely worth the transcendental listen) has me thinking about a helix. That said for those of you who don’t know what that is, its that main picture for this post.
Not 100% sure where my obsession (with this thing, I’ve never thought twice about, sprang from (pun-intended), but today it’s got my attention. In many ways it could represent the way that we as writers circumvent through our own minds to create something infinite, or at least that can be infinitely traversed (mentally anyway). Maybe it even represents the coils (on a roll today) of self, and the bounds of which that self can contain an unforeseen creativity.
In any case it’s gotten my attention. Apologies for the cerebral interpretation, I’m sure that many of you have your own, but that’s what your blogs are for. (#Jussayin). Circling back to the ring leader, it is quite possible that my obsession with this long-forgotten symbol could stem from my SUPER obsession with the short story that I am currently writing that deals with a man on the brink of madness as part of him dissociates from reality as the other side embraces what is actually happening to him.
It’s a very cerebral tale, where much of the ground being covered takes place within on characters psyche. I’ve always loved stories like that (reading and writing) because the tale can advance in any direction, and the only to advance with it, is by joining the main character on their descent. Oh the questions, the questions, the questions. Gotta love that part of the job, I mean it’s why we’re all here right? The questions, the questions, the questions. Don’t worry. I’ll post the story when it’s done.
Any who that’s what I got for you today ya charred spoils of Maine. Just a little sharing, a little. Never killed anyone, I mean unless your sharing AIDS, or an opposing religion to a hostile group, or just about anything with Donald Trump, or math, fuck math.
– Antwan Crump