Harried Parents
This comes to you straight from "Untitled 5" on my hard drive, uncut like a gentile.
As I write this, I am sitting on my planeback to Atlanta. I have my laptop on viddeo mute, and cannot see what i am typing. I guess this is sort of an exercise in stream0of-consciousness. the woman sitting next to me appears to be recentlyengaged, and there is a guy sitting catercorner to me who looks a lot like a guy in my mycology class. I need more discipline' I have gone back and corrected typos several times already, even though I can't see what I'm writing. I guess I can tell when I hit an extra button, though. I am unsure whether or not the 'g' and the 'h' of 'though' in the last sentence are in the right order, but I have resisted the urge to fix it. It's certainly too late now.There's an old man sitting in the window seat across the aisle from me, and he isalone in his row of seats. I I'm fairly certain that he was pretty glad about that. I saw him eyeing people suspiciously as we were boarding...anyone who paused in the aisle next to his row would get one hell fo an evil eye. Right now he is passed out against the wall of the cabin, with a folded-upfleece serving as his pillow. The pretty girl I talked to in the airport is nowhere to be seen. I know that she is seated behind me somewhere, but I didn't keep track of her as we were boarding or anything. I wonder if I've already mentioned that the rwoman next to me seems to be recently engaged. I think I have said that already. I wasn't sure, but then when I typed it it felt very familiar. I think it was the word "engaged." The in-flight snacks came by, and they were out of animal crackers, so they gave out biscof instead. hell yeah! I'll take biscof over animal crackers any day.Gah! I have no tbeen typing for some fifteen seconds now! I am not doing very well with this stream-of-consciousness thing. Well, unless you take it as evidence that my brain stream operates at a trickle. drip...I wonder what town that is. drip...I wish I would get home before midnight. drip...i think that stewardess resembles Andrew Amideo's (ex?)girlfriend Erin a great deal. Not enough to prompt me to ask her, and certainly not as much as the guy catercorner to me resembles the guy in my mycology class (he is not the same guy) but enough to tickle old parts of my brain that I have not used in a long time.Part of tghe reason that I have turned the screen off is to extend my battery life, and the other part is that my back is tired and I am not cofortable sitting in this chair looking at my lap. It would be ideal if I had some kind of periscope, but I didn't bring one. Really, better than a periscope would be a display directly on my glasses...perhaps a laser that stimulated my retina directly, pixel by pixel. That would probably have lower power consumption anyway, in addition to allowing me to get in whatever position was comfortable. I remember that , back in elementary school,, Brian Apts claimed that his father was an inventor who was working on atelevision-glasses. At the time I was cautiously impressed by that. I was a little skeptical, but they had a sweet house with a big TV (on which I watched my first ever pornographic movie) and so he must have been doing sometthing to pay the bills. The urge to turn the screen on and see what I've written is almost overwhelming. Mind you, that's not so much to see the content of what I've said, but rather to see how accurately I've typed it. I've felt a few typos slip by already, and I've made a few edits that required deleteing a few letters. It's hard to keep a decent mental count of that sort of thing. Oddly enough, it was really really hard to type that last sentence. I think that typing about how hard it is to type crossed some wires in my head and gave my fingers the jibbiles. I have to look.
free peek into my heart of hearts.
As I write this, I am sitting on my planeback to Atlanta. I have my laptop on viddeo mute, and cannot see what i am typing. I guess this is sort of an exercise in stream0of-consciousness. the woman sitting next to me appears to be recentlyengaged, and there is a guy sitting catercorner to me who looks a lot like a guy in my mycology class. I need more discipline' I have gone back and corrected typos several times already, even though I can't see what I'm writing. I guess I can tell when I hit an extra button, though. I am unsure whether or not the 'g' and the 'h' of 'though' in the last sentence are in the right order, but I have resisted the urge to fix it. It's certainly too late now.There's an old man sitting in the window seat across the aisle from me, and he isalone in his row of seats. I I'm fairly certain that he was pretty glad about that. I saw him eyeing people suspiciously as we were boarding...anyone who paused in the aisle next to his row would get one hell fo an evil eye. Right now he is passed out against the wall of the cabin, with a folded-upfleece serving as his pillow. The pretty girl I talked to in the airport is nowhere to be seen. I know that she is seated behind me somewhere, but I didn't keep track of her as we were boarding or anything. I wonder if I've already mentioned that the rwoman next to me seems to be recently engaged. I think I have said that already. I wasn't sure, but then when I typed it it felt very familiar. I think it was the word "engaged." The in-flight snacks came by, and they were out of animal crackers, so they gave out biscof instead. hell yeah! I'll take biscof over animal crackers any day.Gah! I have no tbeen typing for some fifteen seconds now! I am not doing very well with this stream-of-consciousness thing. Well, unless you take it as evidence that my brain stream operates at a trickle. drip...I wonder what town that is. drip...I wish I would get home before midnight. drip...i think that stewardess resembles Andrew Amideo's (ex?)girlfriend Erin a great deal. Not enough to prompt me to ask her, and certainly not as much as the guy catercorner to me resembles the guy in my mycology class (he is not the same guy) but enough to tickle old parts of my brain that I have not used in a long time.Part of tghe reason that I have turned the screen off is to extend my battery life, and the other part is that my back is tired and I am not cofortable sitting in this chair looking at my lap. It would be ideal if I had some kind of periscope, but I didn't bring one. Really, better than a periscope would be a display directly on my glasses...perhaps a laser that stimulated my retina directly, pixel by pixel. That would probably have lower power consumption anyway, in addition to allowing me to get in whatever position was comfortable. I remember that , back in elementary school,, Brian Apts claimed that his father was an inventor who was working on atelevision-glasses. At the time I was cautiously impressed by that. I was a little skeptical, but they had a sweet house with a big TV (on which I watched my first ever pornographic movie) and so he must have been doing sometthing to pay the bills. The urge to turn the screen on and see what I've written is almost overwhelming. Mind you, that's not so much to see the content of what I've said, but rather to see how accurately I've typed it. I've felt a few typos slip by already, and I've made a few edits that required deleteing a few letters. It's hard to keep a decent mental count of that sort of thing. Oddly enough, it was really really hard to type that last sentence. I think that typing about how hard it is to type crossed some wires in my head and gave my fingers the jibbiles. I have to look.
free peek into my heart of hearts.