proximoception (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
proximoception) wrote2005-09-14 01:08 am
proximoception) wrote2005-09-14 01:08 am
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I'm starting to forget things, bang into things, drop things. Not a lot, but these were things I never did until a couple years ago, and now do almost daily. I mean, I was absent-minded, but the Google Within never fed me blanks. Not sure how much of this is just me getting older and how much is my having gone to seed--(caused in turn by happy lovenest living? or by eye worries). I also feel very stupid, but I think I remember feeling that way in prior Septembers also, something about the transition from lazy summer hedonism to uneasy autumn intellection.
Are my poems any good? They're all composed straight onto the journal; inspiration turns to consternation fast with me, transforming in turn to that bizarre, vast self-disgust around the twentieth minute, where ideas curl up and words get terse and random. Looking back at one I tend to like it, remembering the idea I had and the reason that idea matters; but am ignorant of how much of these are in the words themselves, distinct from the memories of writing them.
You have some idea, some interesting mental phantom you want to share, but to get it to the next person-planet you need to hurl it through outer space, where, having insufficient physical integrity, it invariably slumps and twists and arrives frozen in some monstrous meaningless form you yourself wouldn't recognize.
Are my poems any good? They're all composed straight onto the journal; inspiration turns to consternation fast with me, transforming in turn to that bizarre, vast self-disgust around the twentieth minute, where ideas curl up and words get terse and random. Looking back at one I tend to like it, remembering the idea I had and the reason that idea matters; but am ignorant of how much of these are in the words themselves, distinct from the memories of writing them.
You have some idea, some interesting mental phantom you want to share, but to get it to the next person-planet you need to hurl it through outer space, where, having insufficient physical integrity, it invariably slumps and twists and arrives frozen in some monstrous meaningless form you yourself wouldn't recognize.
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