A Faulty Attempt of Explanation and etc.
I am trying to enjoy the smallest things in life.
It's a process that deals with immersing yourself within details and abstractions and dumb, funny, or irresponsible jokes. Let me attempt to explain myself in such a stream of consciousness that for anyone who succeeds in reading to the end of this mess has just accomplished the equivalent of analyzing a goddamn narcissist with a hole drilled in the middle of his forehead. All my contents will commence in oozing out, now--my apologies for the mess that I will unfortunately make.
I've considered taking a look at myself in the mirror every morning and appreciating the following as a sign of the inflicting side affects due to lack of sleep: an explosion of hair, teabag eyes, and a confounded ugly man look that I will seize with pride. Music is always an addition worth compiling. Maybe I'll invest in some sort of sound system, one that lets my minuscule computer speakers breathe peacefully while I sing along in my best attempt of being satirical to the point of self-degradation. But, of course, I'd rather be glued to this chair and create words which sound more intelligent than they really, really are. Words are funny things aren't they? Because they just seem to keep poking at you when all you want is some sleep. Or a nap. Or whatever else helps. Words and music are like really good food, only you don't obtain the unnecessary cholesterol or trans fats. I am no beefcake, but maybe in musically infatuated standards, I am. I once told someone that writing is just what I do when I cannot express myself in any other way. So here are some words; you choose what musical motions to exemplify the lyrics.
Because sometimes I really cannot explain myself coherently.
Because sometimes I just want everyone to realize what they don't already know.
Because I am trying to enjoy the smallest things in life.
Because the big things are just way too big.
It's a process that deals with immersing yourself within details and abstractions and dumb, funny, or irresponsible jokes. Let me attempt to explain myself in such a stream of consciousness that for anyone who succeeds in reading to the end of this mess has just accomplished the equivalent of analyzing a goddamn narcissist with a hole drilled in the middle of his forehead. All my contents will commence in oozing out, now--my apologies for the mess that I will unfortunately make.
I've considered taking a look at myself in the mirror every morning and appreciating the following as a sign of the inflicting side affects due to lack of sleep: an explosion of hair, teabag eyes, and a confounded ugly man look that I will seize with pride. Music is always an addition worth compiling. Maybe I'll invest in some sort of sound system, one that lets my minuscule computer speakers breathe peacefully while I sing along in my best attempt of being satirical to the point of self-degradation. But, of course, I'd rather be glued to this chair and create words which sound more intelligent than they really, really are. Words are funny things aren't they? Because they just seem to keep poking at you when all you want is some sleep. Or a nap. Or whatever else helps. Words and music are like really good food, only you don't obtain the unnecessary cholesterol or trans fats. I am no beefcake, but maybe in musically infatuated standards, I am. I once told someone that writing is just what I do when I cannot express myself in any other way. So here are some words; you choose what musical motions to exemplify the lyrics.
Because sometimes I really cannot explain myself coherently.
Because sometimes I just want everyone to realize what they don't already know.
Because I am trying to enjoy the smallest things in life.
Because the big things are just way too big.
posted by Henry at 9:59 AM
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