How does it work, for you guys, when you decide what to write about?
For me, it's like...okay, I think this is the best way to put this:
I think in pages, chapters a second. In terms of writing. Because writing is infinitely slower than thinking. The truth is, I think about damn near the exact same stuff every single day, plus whatever happened the day before. It's not like words moving swiftly through, because they're thoughts, you know, so it works this way:
"I need to leave by six o'clock so I don't miss Heroes" is an overlay of images and feelings that would take twelve blog entries to describe, and they rush in simultaneously in a paragraph of activity, and they're bright orange flames against a blue-ish gray parking lot that flicker while each image and emotion is crossed off and recognized as existing to create the ball of connotation that includes: work, punctuality, "six o'clock," missing things, television, Heroes, being pissed off when a show isn't as good as it should be, and everything that goes along with each of those.
And the next thought is: "I like her make-up." And that, unraveled, is the previous blog entry.
You guys think like that too, right? Or is it different?
I don't even know why I write about this stuff.
Whenever I do, it's like everyone takes a step back from the blog, like, "Okay, I thought she was a crazy bitch, but that bitch crazy."
So those rants I go on, when they happen, it's because one chapter lingers, and it lingers for two seconds instead of one, and it usually inspires the next thought. That extra second pushes it over, and I have to unwind the whole damn thing until everything is is neat little piles in front of me, so I can write it out and organize it and in the end figure out what it means, why it lingered, what am I going to do with it after I rip it apart?
And then suddenly you realize how fucked up you sound when you unravel one thought at a time, because you see all of the other ones that slink into the first, when you didn't even realize they were connected in the first place, and how the hell did they get there?
They always sound way more coherent when they've been untied and unwound, rather than ripped apart. Then I can use them again.
Oh, balls. Whatever.