Which Concerns Early Autumnal Fantasies
8/16/06 5:30 AM – 5:51 AM
How little I can understand of the underlying mechanics of being, but that will do. Where does that nagging unattached sense of not-quite-rightness rise up from and then fall away to? Ah well, perhaps it is a morning for daydreams. If I were a little more free.
If I were a little more free – for English class with Mr. F. No. Not really. I doubt he would have assigned something like that. But he would have graded the grammar and composition of it excellently. I can say that about the ol’ bastard. If I were a little more free – what does one mean by that? I suppose it would be something similar to what I was for that brief time when I was mooching of my mother but still had a car. But without the mooching. Money, I suppose. Mark Twain said, “the lack of money is the root of all evil.” There is something to that, I think. Of course there is still the underlying issue of the state of one’s soul, evil would seem to find its root more honestly there, but still, practically speaking, the lack of money does seem to be the root of evil. Is that actress still married to that actor?
If I were a little more free, I would have a little more money, no job and a car. Those are a powerful combination. I like how that imaginary place feels. Of course, desire is the root of all suffering, but, fuckit, Jesus make me a Buddha, just not yet. So there I am with a little more money, no job and a car. I would have awoken at four in the morning and driven with the windows down until the sun came up. Then I would stop and write for a few hours. How weird. This is the same autumnal fantasy that I’ve had off and on for hmm… eleven years. Well, there’s this one and there’s the one where I’m hiking. And the one where I’m in my cabin in the woods. Ooooo… they’re all such happy places. But really now, that actress, what’s her name, the blond one, is she still married to that actor, the femininely beautiful one that isn’t Jude Law? So I get up and I drive. That’s really where that “Sunrise In Late Fall” story came from, I think. I wanted to spend a few hours inside that fantasy and found a story that let me. And, of course, the girl is asleep in the back, so I get to be alone but don’t have to be lonely. Brilliant. Every morning should be a morning for daydreams.
How little I can understand of the underlying mechanics of being, but that will do. Where does that nagging unattached sense of not-quite-rightness rise up from and then fall away to? Ah well, perhaps it is a morning for daydreams. If I were a little more free.
If I were a little more free – for English class with Mr. F. No. Not really. I doubt he would have assigned something like that. But he would have graded the grammar and composition of it excellently. I can say that about the ol’ bastard. If I were a little more free – what does one mean by that? I suppose it would be something similar to what I was for that brief time when I was mooching of my mother but still had a car. But without the mooching. Money, I suppose. Mark Twain said, “the lack of money is the root of all evil.” There is something to that, I think. Of course there is still the underlying issue of the state of one’s soul, evil would seem to find its root more honestly there, but still, practically speaking, the lack of money does seem to be the root of evil. Is that actress still married to that actor?
If I were a little more free, I would have a little more money, no job and a car. Those are a powerful combination. I like how that imaginary place feels. Of course, desire is the root of all suffering, but, fuckit, Jesus make me a Buddha, just not yet. So there I am with a little more money, no job and a car. I would have awoken at four in the morning and driven with the windows down until the sun came up. Then I would stop and write for a few hours. How weird. This is the same autumnal fantasy that I’ve had off and on for hmm… eleven years. Well, there’s this one and there’s the one where I’m hiking. And the one where I’m in my cabin in the woods. Ooooo… they’re all such happy places. But really now, that actress, what’s her name, the blond one, is she still married to that actor, the femininely beautiful one that isn’t Jude Law? So I get up and I drive. That’s really where that “Sunrise In Late Fall” story came from, I think. I wanted to spend a few hours inside that fantasy and found a story that let me. And, of course, the girl is asleep in the back, so I get to be alone but don’t have to be lonely. Brilliant. Every morning should be a morning for daydreams.
posted by Spike at 2:51 AM
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