Titles About Titles

Friday, April 16, 2004

So I can't sleep. I'm wide-awake and ever-sick. I felt better today but for whatever reason I don't now.

I was lying in bed and I couldn't escape all these cinematic images. People in slow motion, close-ups, dramatic departures, second thoughts, all set to the music that was supposed to put me to sleep. It made me want to write something despite my sore throat and determination to sleep well and wake up early.

When I can't write about anything in particular I write about writing, like this (which started about writing and ended about something else):

We write to breathe, we write to think, we write to make a meaning out of noise. There's beauty in a broken silence and pleasure to peel away. Your resignation brings a question only mothers cannot hide. It's not behavior and it's not creation but bleeding backwards has its reasons under guise.


My body clock is all fucked up thanks to Starbucks. I'm not gonna miss that. I'm gonna try and stay awake. Maybe that'll work...