I tried to write something this morning, as I contemplated the day and the weather and the life that I find myself living. I tried to write, I even managed to write a few hundred words. All drivel, of course. What else would there be? I deleted those words.
And now it's fifteen hours or so later, and I'm back at this keyboard, once again searching for words and phrases which might, when strung together in a certain way, serve to illustrate the wonder that is me at this particular time and date.
12:26 AM, April 26, 2009.
You know what thought jumped into my head a little while ago, as I drove back home from an aborted trip to this stupid Jack's bar that was charging a cover for a stupid band that nobody ever heard of?
Go ahead, try to guess.
The thought that crept into my head was one from an old beer commercial.
Great taste. Less filling.
And that started me thinking about emptiness. And that started me thinking about wasted time. And that started me thinking about wasted effort.
I see it all the time, all around me. I see it in myself, when I dare to look in a mirror.
If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck - guess what, it's a fucking duck. Call it a cherry pie all you want, but it's still a damn duck.