So what's unfortunately becoming a characteristically recurring happening- I have writer's block. The kind of writer's block that makes you curse your existence and every good piece of literature you read, hoping one day you'll be capable of writing more than, "I like trees." Staring at the page in frustration and proceeding to curl up into a ball in the corner of a dark room (doesn't have to be your own... the library would work here too) rocking back and forth, sweating profusely, repeating I like trees until it sounds like a scary chant to summon the dark side. Iliketrees Iliketrees Iliketrees. Then suddenly you begin questioning whether or not your morals would be strong enough to turn down a deal with the devil to get rid of the infernal writer's block. What I'm saying is I'm willing to make a deal with the devil if anyone's got his number.
I had quite a long discussion today about spirituality and it ended with more existential questions than I could ever have mustered with a bottle of Jameson and a night all by my lonesome. Needless to say I do not consider myself remotely religious. Talking about it is fun, but the moment anyone asks me to make a definitive statement about my beliefs my eyes glaze over and I start drooling (it's super sexy). I am inclined to answer, I believe in something, to which people inevitably want me to explain and I cleverly change the subject to the sky... or rice. I don't really do that...
We were talking about the state of the country and how/why it's in the state it's in. The problem with these conversations is the all-encompassing bewilderment I feel afterward. The want to change the world, the desire to make things right, but the overwhelming feeling of doubt that I can even make a dent in this perpetually ethically decrepit society. Yadda yadda yadda. Then there are times when I know all hope cannot be lost because there are such awesome things in the world, like taco bell and nutella and other things that aren't food, but who cares because they're not food.
Anyway, I'm getting sucked into Game of Thrones unwillingly so I better get to wasting more hours on yet another show that will take up parts of my brain that could've been useful in solving the world's problems. Instead that space will be filled with useless information about attractive fictional characters that I will unquestionably become obsessed with and wistfully dream one day I'll meet one of them at a party in Brooklyn and be whisked away to another life (preferably a glamorous one IRL and not like some weird paralel universe or something). Ah the joys of mindless entertainment...
Oh and I'm OBSESSED with them. Get into it. TEED.
I'm out.
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