Homework

I’m so disgusted by what I’ve just read that a post will actually have to wait until this evening. If I were to write the post now, it would be nothing but pure, unadulterated, vitriolic hate.

Texas House Bill 3678 .

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  1. Flood says:

    Why don’t you ever do your homework?

  2. Flood says:

    I love music, I almost like Wal-Mart, I hate thoughts and writing and the time it takes to get from a thought to a place where I can actually write them down, and the doubt and the editing.

    I know you’re wondering what this is, and what it has to do with the latest post. It is honestly how my mind has worked over the last three hours, it’s one A as I write, and maybe the last several months, and probably has absolutely nothing to do with the latest post, but if I don’t write it out maybe it will be gone forever.

    I was watching Scrubs tonight, “My Old Lady,” and they played that song Hallelujah originally by Leonard Cohen and there is a nice remake by Jeff Buckley. I loved the episode and the song and started searching for it on the internet. Found it and listened to it and some other songs that popped into my mind while I was listening, but mainly I listened to the Buckley version of Hallelujah.

    Music to me is a great thought provoker and enticement to examine my soul. I distrust anyone who doesn’t like or listen to music. I knew a man once that thought it was a waste of time. I think he was probably a worthless human being, which is ironic for where I am going with this comment. Music starts as a provoker and soon becomes background noise that blocks the outside world from my thoughts. Especially songs that I love and, to the irritation of numerous friends especially my wife, listen to repeatedly.

    I decided after Scrubs and the music to head home and on the way passed Wal-Mart. I know many people despise the place, but it’s a 24/7 place and sometimes fuels the false hope you can get something that you really want there at ridiculous hours. I pulled in and searched for three different items and was disappointed at every turn. I wasn’t too bothered at this total waste of time and hope, because I recognize that my wants are a little farther off the beaten path than most people’s. My thwarted hope will not make me bitter.

    So I have finally made it home and I really want to get these thought that I have been developing and following for the past three hours off my chest. And so I sit here in my bed, as my wife sleeps beside me, and try to write something that conveys my journey and realize that I will fail completely. I am sure that several reasons could be found, but ”¦. So I sit here suffering from disappointment since I can’t share or express what I have come to feel. And so I love music, almost like Wal-Mart, and hate my thought processes.

    But I still have a memory of my thought journey; a profound feeling of total inadequacy. And I treasure that feeling. Maybe it is better expressed as humility, but I think that word place to kind a spin on my thoughts. Now I am coming out of those depths, wishing that I was closer to a computer when I was deeper in my thoughts. I has helped me to picture my world a little differently for a short time and I can glimpse the bedrock of me. I’m sure that sounds a bit corny, but that is where my thoughts have been. And now I have gotten to the point where all the inspiration is gone and all I am left with is the wish that I would have written sooner, or maybe typed faster. Damn.

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