Sunrise and literary pet peeves
Last night I got to bed early enough that I was able to set my alarm for 4:30 to watch the sunrise. The plan: I would be up when it was cool and then sleep the mid-day heat away (with a bonus sunrise included). Everything worked like a charm. I watched that nighttime punk rocker Cassiopeia fade into a cool, quiet dawn and whispered to it, “Don’t worry... I know you’re still there.”
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It's interesting. A positive statement can have two meanings; Great job can mean great job or terrible job. Yet terrible job can only mean terrible job. There's no such thing as positive sarcasm. That frustrates me to no end.
I also don't like that my recent goal as a writer has been to write something that’s as close to being as complexly inexpressible as possible, trying to write something that can’t be put into words. If I succeed, I’m reducing it to failure by the nature of the product.
Later
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It's interesting. A positive statement can have two meanings; Great job can mean great job or terrible job. Yet terrible job can only mean terrible job. There's no such thing as positive sarcasm. That frustrates me to no end.
I also don't like that my recent goal as a writer has been to write something that’s as close to being as complexly inexpressible as possible, trying to write something that can’t be put into words. If I succeed, I’m reducing it to failure by the nature of the product.
Later