insomnia ramblings

It’s 12:27  and I’m trying to think of what to write.

I’m not in the mood for short stories, and I feel more like reading.

Hopefully this little blog will feel like a combination of both.

I don’t know why it would… unless I reread what I’ve written.

I’m listening to Gymnopedie 1 by Erik Satie.

http://songza.com/z/ylt15b

 

I wish I had larger speakers. I also I wish I had an lp player to play this and some other classical works.

I could open up my windows and play it. Some times it’s ok to be “that guy.” If I’m the “guy that always plays classical music with his windows open,” I can absolutely live with that. I love how classical music changes with you depending on your mood. I feel very thoughtful, but listening to Schubert’s Ave Maria (which is actually a different song, but known as Ave Maria), I could be contemplative, sad, or content, and it would enhance any of those feelings.

 

One of my landlords in Chicago used to play piano every once in a while during the summer. It was nice to come home to. Maybe that’s just the pretentious side in me, the immodest intellectual.

Which leads to my snobby side. And I’m VERY judgmental about classical music, the tempo, instruments, musician’s interpretation, etc. I’ll tell you what though, Ave Maria isn’t Christmas music. I found it on two separate Christmas collections while searching. No sir.

 

Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole. The end. Oh, and those starbucks cds you can buy with Christmas music that’s new and improved. They took all the old songs we love and jazzed em up and made them BETTER. I seem very bitter for some reason. I could care less I suppose, I still listen to the music I want. I guess it just grosses me out that people like stuff that I hate. I’m sure that’s the same with everyone. Even people open-minded enough not to make a face when someone says “yeah, I like the Jonas brothers. They’re really talented for being so young.” I always make a face. Like when Calvin’s dad is trying to take a Christmas photo of him. Anyone who gets that reference must have had at least a decent childhood. If you had Calvin and Hobbes to escape to, things couldn’t be all that bad, right?

i'm going to go read a short story and do some self-hypnosis.

 This was certainly a short and strange blog… but good for me to get in the habit of doing this regularly. Like the old saying, "practice makes you better at whatever you're practicing at."

 

 

writing like a writer

So...
i was supposed to write this last night, but i didn't.

i was laying awake, mind racing.

my train of thought was this: I should write. No, i have work in the morning, I should sleep. But i feel like writing, and i'm not sleeping, and i don't think i can sleep much tonight. but i don't want to be a zombie tomorrow, so i should really do a bit of self-hypnosis and fall asleep.

and then i thought: i can't control when inspiration hits me. it's hitting me right now, and i'm not doing anything about it. i know i should write, i feel like writing, and i'm throwing that away because of a customer service job i don't care about, although it pays very well.
i don't get to decide when i get to channel creativity any more than someone posessed decides whether or not to let the devil spin their head around.

and why not be the writer stereotype and stagger into work, bleary- and bag-eyed, but content in having written some nice rant down in the wee hours of the morning?

boring story aside, i didn't pick up my laptop because i thought "well it's enough for me to have these thoughts and let them affect me for the future." which is half true, half bullshit, and half non-productive.

BUT, i did end up talking on the phone to a dear friend of mine from about 1:30 or so until past 6 in the morning. So i didn't sleep anyway.

and i did just write this down, which although not as good as having written it last night, is still proving to myself that writing is important to me.

this morning, my mind is still sharp.

on another note, sometimes my hair looks like a toupee.
i don't think that's very fair.
unless i end up needing a toupee, because then no one will notice.