Excess Verbiage
April 5 Sat 6:05 PM
Now what? There's a reading of The Great Gatsby on CSPAN 2 right now. Joseph Heller and Garrison Keillor read the first chapter. I haven't heard of any of the other four readers. I'm trippin'. Thing's sleeping. I've walked into his room to talk to him while he sleeps. "Mrs. Ravel walked up to me and stopped to ask if I was growing a beard. 'Constantly,' I said. 'Even when I'm shaving.'"
Feeling like Farmer Ted, all nervous and shaky to be going out with a couple of girls tonight. I've been envisioning certain witty scenarios starring me, followed by abject geekiness and fear. How do you like them apples? How's Koi boy? What the fuck else? I may have used up all my small talk at lunch.
Sun 10:26 PM 4-6
I still have some reading to do; I'm just going to ram through this, so I can be done with it quicker and get to bed so that the alarm won't be a shock in the morning. I'm writing in bed. I've got to read the Bible. My brain is already alseep. I can't think of anything to write. Here's the last page of this journal. I think I'll be moving onto volume 14 after this. How long will it take me to fill a hundred books? My life is no longer a wreck. It's now a disaster. A train derailment in the Cajon Pass, leaking a deadly poisonous cloud with Santa Ana's blowing it straight to LA. Tuesday is the damn computer class. Someday, I'll move. I wonder when and how. It seems like I should stay at Sharp for two more years until I'm ready to move. Tomorrow might be a good day to go by Hoover Elementary. What else can I possibly say? I want to put up a basketball net on the garage.
Mmyeahhhhitsapossibility.
Help! I've just got to finish this so I can go to bed. See? Witness my dedication: I refuse to just give up and sleep. Someday my princess will come. I'm not much of a letter writer, per se. Could it be the actual physical act of putting it in the mail that daunts me? I don't mind writing e-mail. Hmmm...What else? Help. Bless me. God help me to feel well-rested. What else? I feel like I finally know what I want. Now if I can only find it.
QUALITY TIME by Gail Machlis
Using a wordprocessor instead of writing longhand allows a writer to replace whole paragraphs without having to go through the arduous process of rewriting them and having to weigh the value of each word versus the physical labor. So, instead carefully honed prose you have literature that is overburdened with excess verbiage...
Now what? There's a reading of The Great Gatsby on CSPAN 2 right now. Joseph Heller and Garrison Keillor read the first chapter. I haven't heard of any of the other four readers. I'm trippin'. Thing's sleeping. I've walked into his room to talk to him while he sleeps. "Mrs. Ravel walked up to me and stopped to ask if I was growing a beard. 'Constantly,' I said. 'Even when I'm shaving.'"
Feeling like Farmer Ted, all nervous and shaky to be going out with a couple of girls tonight. I've been envisioning certain witty scenarios starring me, followed by abject geekiness and fear. How do you like them apples? How's Koi boy? What the fuck else? I may have used up all my small talk at lunch.
Sun 10:26 PM 4-6
I still have some reading to do; I'm just going to ram through this, so I can be done with it quicker and get to bed so that the alarm won't be a shock in the morning. I'm writing in bed. I've got to read the Bible. My brain is already alseep. I can't think of anything to write. Here's the last page of this journal. I think I'll be moving onto volume 14 after this. How long will it take me to fill a hundred books? My life is no longer a wreck. It's now a disaster. A train derailment in the Cajon Pass, leaking a deadly poisonous cloud with Santa Ana's blowing it straight to LA. Tuesday is the damn computer class. Someday, I'll move. I wonder when and how. It seems like I should stay at Sharp for two more years until I'm ready to move. Tomorrow might be a good day to go by Hoover Elementary. What else can I possibly say? I want to put up a basketball net on the garage.
Mmyeahhhhitsapossibility.
Help! I've just got to finish this so I can go to bed. See? Witness my dedication: I refuse to just give up and sleep. Someday my princess will come. I'm not much of a letter writer, per se. Could it be the actual physical act of putting it in the mail that daunts me? I don't mind writing e-mail. Hmmm...What else? Help. Bless me. God help me to feel well-rested. What else? I feel like I finally know what I want. Now if I can only find it.
QUALITY TIME by Gail Machlis
Using a wordprocessor instead of writing longhand allows a writer to replace whole paragraphs without having to go through the arduous process of rewriting them and having to weigh the value of each word versus the physical labor. So, instead carefully honed prose you have literature that is overburdened with excess verbiage...
posted by johnz at 4:37 PM
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