write. write now. write to do something, anything. write to force away the apathy taht comes way too easily. force the words out even when they aren't there. words, any words, in any order, just to have them. because they are always there. dig deep enough, and there are words swirling, even if you aren't paying attention. so force them out. faster, faster than i can type. make them flow, make the drop onto the page. because they are there. an entire vocabulary in constant use. phrases speaking and answering without conscious knowledge. dig deep enough, and the mind is in constant conversation with itself. just write until a topic reaches out to me, because i need too. i wait to long and it atrophies. it is just way too easy to do nothing. nothing breeds more nothing. days turn into weeks. i sit here, and realize that by the time the next 4 months are over, i will have killed an entire year without anything notable enough to keep my attention. 4 months seems like a long time, but that is exactly what i was thinking in may when i realized i was already 5 months into the year. so, the time passes, and my memories go here. now that i am here, there is something to note. even if it is just a free flow of words devoid of a concrete pattern, an overriding idea. because sometimes there just isn't. sometimes, there is nothing to inspire the train of thought. but that doesn't mean there should be nothing to write about. words together, any words together and become a topic. the frantic pace of this blog will come through, and some pattern will rise to the surface in 4 years when i reread and wonder what i was thinking. even if the answer was nothing, a strong yearning will reach through to me, and i will smile and chuckle and remember the anxious feelings that drove me here. so, i soldier on, and force my mind to string one word after another, even though it doesn't want too. even though it would much rather sit and let someone else's words speak for it for an extended period of time, say from now until it is time for it to drift away into sleep. but i say no. NO. you lazy brain need to think for your self. stop being lazy and entertain us instead. dance like a monkey, and spin words on your fingertips. write until you fall asleep instead. just force the words out, just coil them around, wind them into a pile shaped mess to be sorted through later. words do not always appear together in their final form. they can be moved, removed, supplemented, supplanted, reedited, reemployed, redacted, and crazymafied. and then, when you have the perfect crazymifactaion, you can decrazy them, and be left with simple, subtle perfection. the full scope of the idea without the frenetic trappings that every idea is born in. strip away the superfluous and leave fluous prose behind. text is not birthed whole. ideas do not grow one perfect word at a time. ideas in their base form grow out of a confluence of other ideas, pieces and phrases of other fully formed thoughts combined and shaped into something new and unique. but first, they are just a blob of inner monologue, a combination of many random strings that need to be trimmed into something simpler and more exact. so come here ideas! confluencide to your hearts content. all streams lead to this point right here, right now. i summon you all to me, to see what will rise from the abyss, to see what face forms at the end of the superdense threads of liquid brain material. it is not our purpose now to pull out the full meaning of what we are saying. meaning comes with analysis, and stopping to analyze breaks the flow. so the words keep coming, faster than i can type. faster than my brain can proofread. certain words i don't even remember knowing. i know that a confluence is some sort of gathering or combining of multiple things, but i don't remember ever using that word in my life. where did it come from? did dr. dictionary put it in there? who knows. it is a good word. probably my favorite word of today. thank you brain, for rising to the occasion. that word alone has earned you a brief respite. this is your exercise. the body will get its later, and you will only have to keep up. so now, i am forcing you into action. i have been lenient. there is a new sheriff in town! today i am cleaning up the corners!! no longer with the citizens peek out of their windows in fear! you are going to earn your way today, and the entire brainial community will benefit from your work. children will play in the neural network without fear of being suddenly shorted out of existence. old people will activate memory sectors without being intimidated. move your strife to the page, young scofflaws of the mind. war it out in text, not in apprehension. make your selves seen now, in this massive missive before it is too late, and you are the only sorry idea left pouting unrepresented. we are all hear! calling all lobes, create now. create something. just spill it out. pour it out. splash over whatever container i try to put you in. there has to be more. this can't be the end. i will not let it end at this. my fingers are not bleeding yet. my mind is not blank. my eyes are bright, my hearing is sharp. even the bottom of my feet are tingling in awareness. so who is next. who wants a piece. who wants their say. force yourselves to the surface, or you will be forgotten. remove yourself as an obstacle, or face the full penalty of the new mental authority. bwaha, the mental authority. the law of the mind. not just the dogmatic rules, but the the enforcement of that law, heavy handed and absolute. we are in a state of lockdown. sectors conscious through unconscious are under the oppressive chains of martial law. i am the law! judge dredd speaks! crappy movies that i don't even like are now represented. how does that make you other loser pantywaists feel. are you going to let yourself be beaten by a strongbad wannabe sylvester stallone? NO! i didn't think so. that's right. pantywaists. all of you pussy little ideas who have been hiding under your own sense of shame or lack of confidence no longer have any excuse. you stand there way above the earth, looking down at the water below. everyone is watching. but you stand there, all lined up in a row, too afraid to jump. you have seen the joyous laughter and the screams of exhilaration by ideas that have jumped around you, but still you stand there, frozen in fright. because below is a stretch of air you have never exposed yourself too. the distance you must travel is further than you have ever gone. so you sit, and you tremble, because it is easy to not move. by not moving, you have arrived at this point. but behind you ambles up the sheriff. he knows. he knows that you have not actually arrived. until you move, do something, do anything, you are just a potential idea. until you actually thrust yourself into the microscope of mental consumption, you are nothing but another streak of electricity waiting to be snuffed out once and for all once your sequence of brain cells disappears. when he gets to you, the sheriff stops. he takes out his gun, and points it at your head. he spits past your ear, and you watch the tobacco stained blob sail down past you in an impossibly long arc, finally creating tiny ripples when it hits the water. he says in a calm, yet unsympathetic voice, 'you are leaving this post and joining the river below one way or the other. either you jump yourself and bob back to the surface to join your brothers, or you tumble down dead, and are swept away, lost forever.' and you flinch, but then draw up your resolve, and then finally let your entire world go. you remove one foot from your post, and push off with the other, and then you are falling. you fly under your own power, drawing the water towards you, and then you hit, and there is a panicked moment of uncertainty while you get your bearings in your new environment, and then you realize you have been hear before, you are just swimming in a new larger stream. you draw yourself to the surface and as your head breaks through into the now familiar air, the air that up until a moment ago seemed so daunting, you let out a primal scream of pure accomplishment. it only took one small movement on your part, and momentum took over from there.

frivved up by Ben at 7:03 PM