Zombie-Powered Brains
I’ve been silent for too long. Silence breeds silence. This weekend, I sat around and pretended to think and write (and draw), but mostly I passed the time with video games and DVDs. I hit the breaking point yesterday, when I spent the better half of the day watching an entire season of South Park and playing Battlefield 2 on my Xbox 360. I was a captive to the video game. I sat at the console, playing each round and silently (and then not so silently) cursing myself, trying to convince myself to turn off the damn machine and get outside before the beautiful day escaped. As each round ended, like a zombie to its master, I would hit the start button and enter the next round, my mind screaming but my body refusing to obey its frustrated calls, even after it was perfectly clear that any tidbits of fun had long since worn away.
I did manage to escape the Castle (barely) late yesterday afternoon, after a well-timed network error pushed me off the couch. I left the house to wondrous weather, the sun blindingly bright, and I wandered around Seward Park, making it halfway through the loop before the dark cold rainclouds moved in, bringing a cold breeze that slit open my Spring jacket. I hoofed it back to the Castle, stopping briefly in the supermarket to buy groceries for dinner, before the rain fell.
My wasted day did have painful consequences. I watched so much television and played so many video games that by nighttime my muddled brain felt like it was moving a million miles a minute and getting nowhere fast. I slept poorly and woke no better, my brain still racing around its meaningless track. Only a well-timed morning ibuprofen pill saved me from what would have been miserable day.
I’m sitting and sucking on my bitter pacifier, waiting for its effects to take hold. I keep jabbing away, hoping to find something. Lately, I’ve been writing too little while I wait for perfection. My sentences feel affected, short, personality-less, faux poetic. I reach for brevity and find haughtiness.
The first day is always difficult. I’m puttering out here. I should get to the story or write more bullshit.