I come alive through my senses. I write because I can't live without it like I can't live without my emotions or my senses. I inhale and exhale words.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
TV's a wasteland
And I am here at my parent's house wasting my mind on watching cable. I would rather be at the movies. Or at home doing some real work. Such as writing. Reviewing the material I need to submit soon to various literary journals around town. Sometimes I wonder what more can be written of love? Or money? Or sex? I've actually got a real burning curiosity to know what goes through a man's mind the very first time he sleeps with someone new. Does he remember all who came before her? And why do some guys feel they have to ask if they measure up to the last significant one that came before them? Do they really want to know? Or do they simply want to hear something that makes them feel good? Dating is a minefield but an actual relationship is a is a big bang waiting to happen. There is an ancient manuscript that proposes that God is really a woman and that she fell in love with that elusive man. She pursued him, she made love to him, and their orgasm was the big bang and thus the universe was created. I like that creation story. Try teaching that one in the schools. Pure hearsy of course. Or is it?
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