When you're demented like me, you face situations like this:
I got so involved in work and then editing a manuscript (done, BTW!) that from 6 to about midnight, I forgot to eat dinner... or anything at all. No, wait, I had a PB & J sandwich at like 8. Or drink anything. At all.
Now it's 1 and I'm really hungry and thirsty. However, it's 1. I guess I can make a snack of some kind, but the fact I'm going to bed right after is kind of funny to me.
Tempus fugit when you're having fun.
I guess it's a sign I worked too hard on that MS last night when I wake up dreaming about a new Microsoft Office Assistant. Not that Mr. Paperclip is active on *my* computer, but in the dream there was this new "helper" that was actually kind of GOOD, surprisingly. I can't think of the exact icon, but it was red and cute, like the Japanese had come up with it, and it would appear as you worked and tried to help. I think the reason it was superior to Mr. Paperclip is that it would go away instantly without you having to click it away, kind of like it could read your mind.
I'm listening to one of my very favorite albums from my middle school / high school years, Big Science by Laurie Anderson. Absolutely brilliant. I have a lot of fond memories of this album, not the least of which was first discovered it in my sister Nancy's LP collection in like 1988. I remember this was one of the CDs I brought with me to Germany when I spent the summer there in 1992; Gisela kept telling me she didn't understand "Example 22." A year later, I remember reading "Let X=X" in front of my senior year English class as an example of one of my favorite poems. I think in college I used "Sweaters" to make one of my roommates leave the room.
Here's a man who lives a life of danger.
Everywhere he goes he stays -- a stranger.
I just finished editing that MS but I still have a long list of projects I'm doing for Immanion Press. Including stuff in progress and/or up the pipeline and not ready to be worked on: the final Wraeththu novel Ghosts to edit, a story to be published later, a novella to write, a (non-Wraeththu) short story anthology to edit, a Wraeththu novel to edit, another Wraeththu novella to edit, and MORE!
And now I will get to work.
dar·ling Audio pronunciation of "darling" ( P ) Pronunciation Key (därlng)
1. A dearly beloved person.
2. One that is greatly liked or preferred; a favorite: "the pride and vanity of the rich, the darlings of fate" (Mario Puzo).
1. Dearly beloved.
2. Regarded with special favor; favorite: "Metaphysics and poetry... are my darling studies" (Samuel Taylor Coleridge).
3. Informal. Charming or amusing: a darling hat.
[Middle English dereling, from Old English dorling : dore, dear + -ling, diminutive suff..]
Decided to make all these stockpiled poetry books (many of them never fully read) my new bathroom reading material. Recently I finished the 60-page Howl and Other Poems by Allen Ginsberg, a little pocket edition put out by City Lights in San Francisco, the original publisher of most of these poems.
I'd read some of these poems (like "Howl") before but some of them were new to me. In addition to the usual thougthful, biting Ginsberg, I came across some really beautiful lines, including the lovely "Sunflower Sutra," which contains:
We're not our skin of grime, we're not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we're all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we're blessed by our own seed & golden hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sit-down vision.
And "Song" has the rather immortal words:
The weight of the world
Under the burden
under the burden
One thing I found funny, and which Ginsberg would appreciate (and not mind at all) is that I read this all on the toilet. About half of it I read out loud, as I think poetry makes MUCH mor sense that way. Anyway, I'm sure T.S. Eliot would not be nearly as tolerant of such treatment; he is my next victim.
I hate when somebody I NEVER hear from suddenly emails me and I get excited, only to find it's just some piece of stupid meme / urban legend / petition and the only reason they emailed is because they hit "Send to Everybody In Address Book."