Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Stream of Konsciousness- the Last Day of August.

Have to find my own thoughts within this tube of lies and deceit. Not sure where these words come from, though it's probably the music (mostly propaganda and advertisements) that constantly drums messages into my head through my car speakers, headphones, computer, or whatever other countless device they've sold me to stop the pain. Tired of biased censoring that defeats the purpose of censorship in the first place. Feel like if I don't get this out, the words will appear in some other form- voices in my head, but that's contemplating about the past cus they already have-

Stop listening to those who say blah, blah, blah, and yak, yak, yak. There are those who have something to say and will listen to your squabbles and frustrations. Not because you're special or important, but because they understand, or want to understand.

The writing process has so many rules, and other rules, and other, other, rules (if you wanna make money from it), but this is cheap and easy and free and who is to say it's not commercially viable? Probably everyone besides myself.

Is all writing really autobiographical? I'm still not sure, I can't tell the difference. I'm starting to think that biographies are bullshit and the authorized biographies are even worse. History is a farce when those who wrote the books only wrote the books to keep the lights on in the kitchen.

Does anyone care about truth anymore? I know there are some, that's for sure, but I'm tired of preaching to the choir, or hearing the preacher preach to me while I'm in their choir. We need a new choir.

I've been writing this for about 4 minutes straight nonstop and I can't decide whether I should edit it for punctuation and spelling or if it should be pure, unadulterated, SOK. I suppose it would be very hard to read or comprehend if I didn't, so I will.

Tuesday is a day like none other. It's after Monday, but before Wednesday. For 9 to fivers, which I used to be, but no longer am, it must suck. It's like Wednesday is the hump day, but you're not there yet. At least on Monday you have funny interesting stories to tell your friends and co-workers from the weekend, but if you're like me, by Tuesday, you don't even remember what happened on the weekend. So I suppose if you had missed Monday at the watercooler because you were sick or something like that, you'd be at the water cooler on Tuesday to get the skinny on what happened over the weekend, but no one would tell you because they would've had already had the conversation on Monday, or they wouldn't even remember, or even if they did, the stories would have all lost their punchlines. Suffice to say, Mondays at the cooler are still the best day for stories about the weekend at work. And if you're gonna call in sick, do it in on Friday, so you don't get left behind. I'm sure there's ramifications about calling in sick on Friday too, but everyone's so excited and consumed about their weekend plans that they won't be thinking about you- and by Monday, they probably will have forgotten you weren't there. Unless you bring it up. So don't.

That's it for today.

Yes, I will edit the spelling and grammar.

And no, I don't care about the sentence fragments. And if my editor has a problem with it, he can shove it- I'm an artist. I left them there on purpose.

Love,

PW

Up Next: Altruism.

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