Have you ever had one of those weeks? You know the ones when you’re feeling particularly drained and completely useless? Yeah, I’m having one of those weeks. Well, I should say it’s been the last couple of weeks. I’ve just been drained and burned out. You’ve probably noticed that I skipped a few days of posting the daily doodle, and even missed a day of writing (or two) in there. Hell, May has most assuredly been a month in which I just checked out and glided by creatively. For someone who prides himself on things like consistency and imagination, it can be about as painful as a gut wound and as distracting as severe head trauma.
What I’m saying here is the last couple of weeks have felt like I’ve been stabbed in the stomach and then kicked repeatedly in the head.
Yeah, I’m going to explain my metaphor for you. Deal with it. I’m surly today.
Sorry about that, I was chewing my nails and thinking about how this post will probably suck worse than a brand new vampire that just isn’t ready for the first kill yet.
I think I like that metaphor.
Here is an artists rendering of it:
You may be asking, “Why is he wearing a bow tie?”
My reply might be, “Why aren’t you wearing one?”
Let’s just be clear, it takes a whole lot of crazy to power this level of psychosis. To keep that kind of crazy in stock, you pretty much have to cultivate it. I haven’t been cultivating my crazy lately.
I’ve been playing Dragon Age Origins…
and watching Glee.
I can’t help it, you try not watching a show with Jayma Mays. It is physically impossible for me to do that. I’m sorry. I am only so strong…
Still, it isn’t like these bouts of laziness are anything knew. I mean, my body punishes my equal devotion to both laziness and fried chicken by making choking noises when I walk down the hall. There is just something about the way I’ve been feeling lately that is more melancholy than normal. In a way it feels a bit like I’ve been mentally transported back in time to the state I was in as a sad, mopey little wannabe goth kid.
Sorry, I went in search of the picture of me all gothed out that I was 90% sure was in my LiveJournal somewhere in 2003. I didn’t find it, but I did find out that on top of being the most horrendously emo little douche you could imagine, I was also worse at spelling then than I am NOW. That is no small feat, mind you.
Seriously, I’m not even going to link to it, it was the most horrendous thing I’ve ever read. Someone should travel back in time and stab 19 year old me in the had with a rusty nail. He is not deserving of your pity. Show him no mercy, time traveling mercenary. In exchange, I shall give you 3 packages of Crystal Light Natural Cherry Pomegranate Bottled Water Mix:
If you do an extra good job, I might throw in a few more of these babies. You know you want them. They’re so delicious and full of antioxidants. I know how important antioxidants are to you time traveling mercenaries.
Anywho, I hope that you’ll forgive me for the preceding 559 words.
There is a trick to restarting the creative brain that I learned from good old Mrs. Hause in my Freshman Poetry Class:
When you mind is wholly drained
of thought and will and creative phrase,
the pain may drive you to a maddening craze,
though all your hopes have been detained,
Let not the potent fear become ingrained,
Push on through that darkening haze,
Allow your thoughts to set ablaze,
the words flow to the page from brain.
Pen to paper, jot every thought.
Nonsense, gibberish, all that rot.
Keep this rule tucked in your bonnet:
It must only rhyme if it’s a sonnet.
Okay, so I wrote that poem, but the lesson came from Mrs. Hause. Basically, if you get stuck, just keep spewing gibberish until you aren’t stuck anymore.
Then everyone will have a much harder time trying to find the deep seated meaning of your words.