Hey, We're the Replacements.
Earlier this morning, I wrote 9/10s of a brilliant analysis of my mind. But it was vague to protect the innocent, and I hate vague livejournals, so I sat there reading pieces of it to myself until I fell asleep. When I woke up, I Ctrl-A'ed it and typed this over it.
Why? Because I realized the words I'd typed were so true that they were even true as concerns themselves. That's starting to sound vague, so I'll put in the main gist of the analysis:
I used to be obsessed with things (comic books, DVDs, improv, theater, etc.) and now I've discovered that I no longer am.
It turns out I'm also no longer obsessed with putting down exactly what I feel in great depth in my Livejournal, with posting things as they are, with never self-editing or second-guessing myself.
Truth in my life is really sort of depressing.
I think that's why, when I fell asleep, I dreamt for four hours that I was part of the Trust/Minuteman conspiracy from the comic book series 100 Bullets... while simultaneously not being able to order a pizza late at night from the mini-restaurant at a Target-knockoff store.
...Yeah, I don't know either.
.
Why? Because I realized the words I'd typed were so true that they were even true as concerns themselves. That's starting to sound vague, so I'll put in the main gist of the analysis:
I used to be obsessed with things (comic books, DVDs, improv, theater, etc.) and now I've discovered that I no longer am.
It turns out I'm also no longer obsessed with putting down exactly what I feel in great depth in my Livejournal, with posting things as they are, with never self-editing or second-guessing myself.
Truth in my life is really sort of depressing.
I think that's why, when I fell asleep, I dreamt for four hours that I was part of the Trust/Minuteman conspiracy from the comic book series 100 Bullets... while simultaneously not being able to order a pizza late at night from the mini-restaurant at a Target-knockoff store.
...Yeah, I don't know either.
.