Early Spring and it's raining in Normal entries

Seem to have misplaced one of the few marginal skills I have; the ability to transfer the voices in my head to paper. The skill isn’t marginal so much as the voices are. We do, as a people, have a great fascination for the mad and the serial killers. I’d be a shitty serial killer, mostly because of the blood and shit and the whole meticulous planning part, but, also, I don’t know enough people I want dead to make up a whole serial, more like a mini-series. I know that last part has nothing to do with nothing but that’s because the serial killing business has a whole lot to do with nothing.

The thing is the voices haven’t stopped, I’m just not their chronicler these days. Sure, voices in the head is a hyperbole, I kind of think most things are, like ghosts, demons, angels shit like that, and yet if I said I were plagued by demons or touched by an angel or a ghost walked over my grave you’d know what I meant; plagued by past transgressions, lucky and spooked, respectively. By voices in my head I mean my own voice making associations, mostly funny ones, sometimes even ha-ha funny ones.

You could just call them thoughts if you’d like. You could just call dreams thoughts too, or love, greed, hostility; just thoughts. The way Hollywood interprets thoughts is an ongoing internal dialogue about the events unfolding. Hollywood is not an entity (although, it’s possible, certain studio are considered an entity under the law, I don’t know one way or the other). It’s people, writers who make that shit up, actors who interpret that shit, and directors who tell the actors how to interpret and then cut out the shit that doesn’t jive with what they want to do. The thought process is the new stage whisper. Ok, maybe the voice over is the new Greek chorus slash stage whisper, but, you know what I mean.

My thought process would only play in an art house. Except when I’m typing or, some few times, when I’m driving. It’s hard to tell other motorists all about themselves over the top of Shriekback and the roar of the A/C or heater unless you are actively watching their sins against nature. Oh, a quick tangent; you have no idea how many people are having oral sex on the freeway until you catch a ride in a big rig.

The typing used to be the other way around; the voice did the typing and the hands just followed orders. I’m sure I’ll get back there for better or worse. The better would be amusing the shit out of myself, the worse being not giving a shit if it amused it amused the shit out of someone else. The voice wouldn’t allow shit to be used three times like that, would have edited on the fly some other expletive, maybe three different ones.

So why post stuff that, at best, isn’t for the world at large and, at worst, doesn’t do anything for you (meaning me)? Good question, shut the fuck up. Christ now I forgot my grammar. Should it be the fuck up you should shut or the fuck, shut up. I guess the phrase is shut up but fuck up is a phrase too, hence the need for grammatical rules, do I want the fuck up to quit speaking or do I want the implied subject to emphatically quit speaking. Technically shut up doesn’t necessarily mean stop speaking, fucking ventriloquists shut up all the time.

Where was I? Lost, fucking lost.