The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good

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Day on

Today's my day off, and before the normal start of business at the bank, I have accomplished more than I usually do on any other given day. Granted, most of it has been introspective, but I've pounded out the first twentifive pages (half a day) of Atlas. I've had a few deep and sweeping revelations (I wanted to say realizations, but they're not until I make them real) about writing, and about Ayn Rand. Very interesting; so far it reads like a fairy tale, with larger than life characters and very black and white good and not-so-good. It is not bad.

Hey, my TV is playing a Live song at me. One from Throwing Copper that I actually like. Wouldn't you be pleased?

I woke up thoughtful after a mildly disturbing dream which involved having to be driven by my mom to Monroe, New York, to see a very small concert/book sale (live music at a book store) which was then cancelled and replaced by a lingerie sale hosted by Tracey Ullman. She was wearing a demicup brassiere. Oooookay. Dunno why, but I started thinking about people I "know." I was thinking of tearfilled reunions with people I've never physically met and currently missing electrons.

Na na na na, na nana nana, na na. I am surrounded by the sound, the sound.

I was thinking about how little I actually know about some people. Where do you live? Who are these friends you always mention? How long have you known them? Are you being sarcastic when you talk about her?

I'm reminded of the day I realized just how scarcely people address each other by name, and how important introductions really are. I always give people a name to call me by when they meet me. It's seldom my given name, but it beats Hey, You.

Some people are just a puzzle to me. I don't know them at all. Some people I thought I knew, but then they introduce new people I don't remember being introduced to, because they've always been there, taken for granted in your life. Some people feel like they could be BeEst FriEnds 4EVAR, if only we'd ever met or hung out. Some people have proved me right about that already. And some of you prove that friendship is real and lasting, with the way we slide back into conversation so subtly.

I need to dance with you, for real, barefoot, under moonlight on dewy grass. Just to see what it's like.

I want to come to the rescue. I want to be your fondest distant memory. I want to write the song that's in your head when you die. I want better circulation, so that my hands wouldn't be freezing at the moment. I want people to cut out all the abbreviating, like AtM. I want money to suddenly become a bad thing, and for time to instead become much more precious. Too many people frivolously waste time trying to make money.

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