Feast or Famine

I sometimes think, that as a writer, there is nothing worse than experiencing prolonged periods of writer's block. But then coming out of it and in usually an unexpected, yeah always an unexpected moment, my manic side kicks in and suddenly, I have too many things to write about and the 100 differing ways to write them. Sensory overload usually brought on by a few tokes over the line on the morning walk.

Too many ideas at one time can be very frustrating also and often bring with them an inability to focus on just one. 

Feast or Famine.

This morning I awoke with my first writing idea in mind. I know I did because the last thing I remembered before forgetting it,was when I came up with a new idea to replace it with. All morning long it has been a barrage of notions, tales and lies to write down. My brain has decided the best way to leave writer's block in the rear view mirror, is to take a shotgun approach to firing up my creative juices.

Feast or Famine

So far, as of 9:13 AM, I have conjured up a flash story idea about a dude being tortured and laughing at his tormentors. I watched Arnold Schwarzenegger being interviewed on MSNBC. Immediately I thought:

"Hey, Arnold has really surprised me over the years, I should write about him."

Thoughts of an "Ah-nold" post were lost as soon as I sat down to write and noticed that the normal pigsty that is my office and especially my desk seemed different. Instead, there was a kind of erratic calm, messy order, and involuntary sanity in what was before, the usual chaotic disorder and mayhem.

Other notions replaced previous notions steadily for 4 hours. And because I was blinded by the light and wealth of strange schemes, I became overwhelmed and useless. I can only write about what I might have, could have, in the future probably will have written about. 

I accomplished only slightly more than a normal screwin the pooch day here on Sam Page Rd. Without question, writing about what I am not writing about but could if I only focused for a nanosecond or two is as close to not quite screwin the pooch as I can get and still claim I had a productive day.

I hope the rest of the day ends making more sense.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .......................................

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Focusing on one song to share was actually easier than I thought it might be given the scattered brain I am utilizing at the moment. Well, the stars that line up for us potheads must be near or close by to some kind of conjunction, intersectional crossroad. I went right to Sublime and their cover of "Smoke Two Joints". I dare you to not tap your feet.