Fixing stuff, myself included…
Not Writing
Not writing? So what the hell does that mean?
I’m trying to figure that out, but I think it means I’m out of touch with myself.
Maybe you should masturbate more often.
Oh cut it out; you know that’s not what I meant. I’ve gotten out of the habit of writing everyday, and while, I’m going through the motions of attending my painting classes, I’m not doing much painting either.
So what’s your excuse?
Everything seems to take more time than it should, or time is less than it used to be. Maybe that’s what they mean when they say, “time is relative,” or is it Einstein’s theory of relativity? Whatever it is, it’s what’s happening, kind of like, “wherever you go, there you are.”
The theory of relativity, that’s your excuse?
Yes. You know, I once had a relative who traveled so far in time that he mistook the day before yesterday for the day after tomorrow. Needless to say, he was not my favorite relative. And, now in a similar vein, think about this, in the “meantime.” What kind of time is that, the meantime? And, while you’re at it, just think about the word mean. Am I trying to tell you what I mean, or am I just being mean by any means.
How did we get from not writing, to the meaning of time and words?
A good question, considering it took a considerable amount of time to arrive there. But, you’re here.
“Why don’t you write books people can read?”
–Nora Joyce, to her husband James