perhaps i'm a copycat after all and all i do is steal other folk's ideas. oh well, right? i mean, it's oh-so-cool now to re-tell other people's stories. that is, unless YOU actually have something to say in which case everyone should just shut and listen, shouldn't they?
well, shouldn't they?!
perhaps my introduction to the concept of how the shower can act as an incubator is indebted to jane's addiction's catchy "standing in the shower thinking." songs and movies and books and ideas float down get passed around and voila! copyright infringement.
nevertheless, i continue to get blasted by a frenzy of random images and monkey mind crazies. especially when i'm the shower. i often find myself racing through the last step in my OCD cleaning ritual to quickly dry off and make it to my notebook before i forget some of the crazy shit i just thought of or worse yet, tamed it down to a dull nub of a ne'er-do-well nugget.
then i'd be another has-been coulda shoulda woulda fearsome fake corporate make-money-or-die suit in a barrel. "i don't mean to get off on a rant here" but i'm so tired of listening to sob stories from co-workers like "i love music but i quit my private high-class education to study accounting so i could get a real job." it scares the shit outta me but mostly it fucking pisses me off. another sellout fat fuck behind a desk doing absolutely nothing for a paycheck. just keeping his big fat fuck mouth shut. that's all these mofo congloms do after all, pay people to keep their mouth shut and pretend they never wanted, pretend they never dreamed.
perhaps it's my re-introduction to corporate land via the soma suits this fine summer, but this shit is tired already. these are the same mofos i saw as a 15-yr.old high-school dropout forced to "get a job and contribute something to society." these are the same corporate coke-snorting asshole fucks who sell, sell, sell and buy, buy, buy. sticking it in their teenage daughter's best friend, smiling behind a desk for the life he never allowed himself.
so. what am i doing here? there are similarities. there are differences. mostly, i'm just like them in that i'm here out of self-preservation, pretending i deserve my fat paycheck, so i can go home, hump my husband, cuddle with our cats and watch "the teevee." only, we don't watch tv. we're snobs. we read books and steal movies and sometimes rent them from the library. we write and sculpt and make books out of shit on the street and draw and sometimes paint and sometimes draw on the cats.
plus, i'm part-time so i'm only part-sellout. i'm getting paid to write this and i can provide my own medical benefits, thank you.
i'm not defensive. really.
if i could live in my shower, if i could pretend i were a plant that needed perpetual watering, i would stay home.
oh yeah, go see this movie and stop fuckingdriving.
(end ramble / jumps off soapbox)
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