April 29th, 2004

Me and Grandpa

Notes and considerations...

First: Interesting commentary on the opt-in post. You guys make me think.

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Third: Once upon a time, long long ago, I complained to a boy named Ryan (I wonder, sometimes, where he is, this boy that I first hated and then became grudging friends and finally allies with) that I could not write poetry any more, that my mind was empty. His response was to write down a phrase in the yellow stenographer's book we used to pass notes in class with, and the inscription: Write something about this.
I feel strange and disconnected; the words are filling up inside my head. I cannot write, I have found myself saying, not like I used to. And so I turn to you, O Best Beloved, for a sort of Mad-libs writing inspiration. Give me a sentence, a phrase, a topic, something mundane or fanciful. No opinion pieces, no politics, none of the drab desolation that fills the newspapers and assualts us on every front. Something simple. It doesn't have to make sense; I have written strange things before. What matters is the obligation to write, as last evening the obligation to speak broke my delusion. So:

What shall I write about?

Poetry or prose?


And lastly: I will regale you later this evening or perhaps in the morning with tales of today, in which I spent 0900 to 1400 doing nothing really but reading, drinking two cups of coffee (which I brewed, extra-strong), and subsequently trying to catch up with my mind -and 1400 to 1800 running about seeing three patients, all of whom were most decidedly fascinating.
I am no longer as jittery, but I think I need some food to calm myself completely. My application for the AAFP resident and student conference scholarship goes into the mail tomorrow. I hope I get it.
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