If you don't know, this entry is named after the rather excellent movie that bears the exact same name. If find that certain books and movies just trigger something or push a button that makes me sit down and write. Perhaps they are that good, or perhaps they just reflect something so deep that I can't hold it in anymore. Like right now, I'm listening to Feist's I Feel It All, and it's about to change to My Moon My Man and I have no idea where this is going. I don't know what to write about or what I will write about. Unlike the other entries, I have no guiding light. I'm just opening up the container of orange juice and pouring out the contents.
It's really a brilliant movie. Really, but I'm just stalling at this point. Worlds shift all the time, but I've never noticed more shifts in my life than in the past six months. Perhaps I'm becoming more aware or perhaps everything is just changing at a more rapid pace. I want to say something, but I don't know what it is that I want to say. Maybe I'm too afraid to dive that deep, or maybe I have no depths to dive into. I wonder, is that it? Or is it the fear that I have no depths to dive into that is paralyzing me. I'm sure there is something, and that would explain the stream of consciousness that I'm doing right now. I'll probably wake up one night, splattered with moonlight (Interesting word choice there...) and I'll realize what it is I'm trying to get across. And then I'll just grab a piece of paper, no doubt my AP summer assignment and I'll scribble something down on it. Of course, once I faint from exhaustion and wake up in the morning, I'll realize that whatever I wrote is completely illegible. Maybe the quest and the grail can't coexist in the same universe. There is no grail without the quest and without the grail there is no quest. So if I do find the answer, it would have to vanish, otherwise what is there to live for?
Or maybe I'll find the answer and then find another question. If you can't tell already, I still have no idea where this is going, but something is starting to formulate, so bear with me. Of course, if you bear with me, you'll have to deal with more paragraphs of this nonsense. Which, on a tangent, is an incredible word. The meaning is in the form. It's so structuralist. Look at the word nonsense. Non. Sense. Nonsense makes NO SENSE, and the word itself makes that very clear. It's wonderful. I'm broken. I don't make sense. I recognize that and I feel like I'm going insane (Right now it feels like I have fiery wings growing out of my head. I'd say about 128 fiery wings.) and I'm caught by this mania, this insanity to write. I'm not even writing anything of substance, anything that relates to anything else I've written, I'm just writing. It's like somebody has taken over my hands. Right now I'm look at my hands and wondering whose they are. Really, the only thing that's holding all of this together is my punctuation and my strict adherence to the rules of grammar. Oh, and my nearly impeccable spelling. But ignore the fluffing of my ego, it won't fit through the door.
I know something and I know that I know something and I know that I know that I know something, but as I've already said, I don't know what that is. And apparently I don't even know what I'm talking about since I'm referring back to something I've already written. So clearly there is some thread holding all these shards together. I'm tired and cold. I'm bent and crooked. But I'll love my crooked neighbor, even if it's just myself with my crooked little heart. And thou shalt love thy crooked neighbor with thy crooked little heart. Neck in neck you'll walk and walk and walk on the shore. And as you walk you'll detach from the spiral and you'll watch your mind shift perceptions. It's the oddest sensation, becoming aware that you are watching something, that you are perceiving something in a completely different manner. It's like lying very very still on the ground and feeling the rotation of the earth. And it spins a lot. My head spins a lot. People spin a lot. This is becoming increasingly fragmented and I don't know why I am putting all of you through this, I don't know why I'm writing this. What can I do but cling to the hope that there is a reason for writing this, that there is a purpose this existence. I'm so sorry. I'm becoming needlessly dramatic. And I just didn't spell dramatic correctly although you'd never know it since I have spell check. Thank God for machines. Although it is rather pompous that God capitalizes his name. I mean, the Jewish God doesn't even use his name, he just uses initials and all those are capitalized. Rather pretentious although I fear that I'll be struck down with lightning for saying anything.
Wait for it.
Nothing. I haven't been smote. That was a close call, although considering the circumstances it probably wasn't. I guess I'm condemned to be free and to live and yes I stole that very observant of you want a cookie? And I'm sorry about that last sentence, I appear to be losing my grip on something though not the something that I'm trying to find. A different something, something that I would call reality, but I don't actually know. I tend not to know. But I'm not as happy as I think I should be if we/I assume that ignorance is bliss. I guess I just disproved that unless I'm grossly overestimating the state of bliss. Or maybe this is just a period of Self Discovery! That must be it! I'm just experiencing a rather late period of DISCOVERY! I FOUND THE NEW WORLD NOW LET'S GIVE ALL THE NATIVES AIDS! And then they will all die and we'll call it Thanksgiving. Amen to that and let's stuff our faces full of flesh. The turkeys will rise one day and kill us all if the robots don't get us first! Wahoo! I'm going crazy! My hands feel like they've detached from my body although I suppose I can't refer to them as "my" hands anymore. No. The hands that used to be mine have been detached from what was my body. I think I'm just some incorporeal spirit floating above all of this watching my mind whir and spin and gyrate on its axiom. I mean gyrate on its axis. Unless I didn't. I really don't know anymore and I should be finishing this soon, but I get the feeling that I won't be done for a while. I should see a shrink or get my head shrunk. Maybe it'd fit through the door then. I think I have moments of super clarity maybe. Moments in which I can see through things. Like super sanity. But these are very rare and I could be making all of this up. I mean, no I don't mean, I say, "Where does all this come from? Is there some spring of eternal thought that these just well up from?" I said it, but by using quotations it feels like I didn't actually say it. A character named Daisuke Kawachi did.
A new paragraph.
Another one.
And a n o t h e r one.
Space and silence say things, but the people get tired of it. They want solid things. So I'll defy them and give them void!
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Connect the parentheses and it's like some fabulous building.
I'm done!
I'm not really but I have to go to my dead end job tomorrow and I need sleep.
Assuming I can sleep after this.
I wonder what I'll dream about.
It's a statement now, not a question.
Love perhaps, Caution yes, jazzy riffs on a keyboard no,
Daisuke=Kawachi
