…and just like that, I sink again under the weight of my own bullshit. It seems that any time spent alone these days is a bad scene for me—my brain begins to devour itself one obsession at a time. Any ground gained yesterday has been lost. Happiness walked out the door again because it finds my company intolerable.
I can still write a little, but in real life I am becoming more and more inarticulate and uncomfortable. I’m uncomfortable with myself, with others—in my own head. I squirm in this life now like I used to in my polyester church suit as a child.
The Seal asked me recently if I was still meditating—I’m a kind of lapsed Buddhist—I replied that I was caught in a “chicken-and-egg” syndrome where my brain is buzzing so much that I can’t even get into a quarter-lotus. I can’t calm my mind to the point where I can begin to calm my mind.
My only solace seems to come from either numbing my head with television or reading about other people’s lives. I feel like Homer, “Turn something on I’m starting to think!” This is really what you people should also be doing: go read the reverse cowgirl’s blog or William Gibson’s blog. Both are brilliant for completely different reasons.
I think Susannah Breslin is a kind of filthy genius. Her blog is by turns titillating, enlightening, affecting, hilarious and disturbing. In addition to great writing, Susannah has captured a perfect form—what a blog is really meant to be: a beautifully balanced work that includes writing, photos (original and found) and links. She also manages to mention ‘bukkake’ so often that the word has lost all meaning for me.
William Gibson’s blog, on the other hand, is so damn good it pisses me off. Gibson just drifts in, starts-up a blog, and it blows most others away. He provides me with a glimpse into the mind of a writer I admire and the experience shames my own efforts.
All I have to offer you is scenes of me floundering.