Blogging, but this time with blogging
Every time I get the feeling like I should blog something, I usually realize that it would do just as well to shout into Mastodon (my masto instance). Like that sentence for example. Not so much that last one.
Kind of in the vein of the previous post, I feel like I want to maybe do some kind of blogging exercise where every time I stop typing, I take inspiration from whatever the current song lyric is to write the next line. (That last sentence could have been a self contained masto post).
I think I'm getting carried away feeling sorry for myself. All of my blog posts seem to have this morbid kind of self-deprecation to them. And they're all. about. blogging. Every one of them. Like it makes me curious, what would a painting about painting look like? Is that a self-portrait? I know there are definitely plenty of songs that are about songs or about writing songs.
My head's a balloon, inflating with the altitude. Is that how it works? Now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense. As the balloon rises, the air pressure drops, so it would inflate more. Interesting, when you think about song lyrics that you've heard dozens of times but haven't given enough thought to.
I know people have done this before with random books. Pick a random book off the shelf, flip to a random page, and use the first sentence you see as the first line of your composition, as a writing prompt. I've heard of that exercise.
I actually think I'm a pretty good writer and that most of my writing skill goes to waste a good deal of the time. Like today at work I wrote a design doc, and I thought I wrote it pretty eloquently. But it was a fucking design doc. Like who cares? It's just technical documentation that will be out of date and forgotten for far more total time than it's recent and useful.
The stale taste of recycled air has got me into a frenzy of superstition and longing. Yikes, tried to mash that one up a bit and it didn't come out quite as I'd expect.
Also if you think this post is leading somewhere, ha! Or maybe that's as good a time as any to simply end it.
Okay wait this one: I was waiting for a cross town train in the London Underground when it struck me...
...that I've been waiting blah blah blah. But is it coincidence that the first line makes it sounds like the guy got hit by a train? Is that just awkward writing, or a cleverly buried easter egg? Please please let me remember to ask Ben Gibbard that if I ever meet him. Or actually, if anyone reading this knows how to get in touch with him, could you ask him for me and get back to me?