I hate snow, the Beta Muse fnds it funny. Like powdered sugar, oh look we're so small that cold makes piles of snow.
"Snow," he says, "we've even got a name for it, so."
Snow is only good as aesthetic.
I found out why he was all upset the last week or so, too, aside from our being sick and all. It was cold showers and suppressed memories what made him all upset, what gave me means of chronology for the piece. You have to really listen to your muse. Catharsis is what they want. Everything and all that they want.
I'm so busy this week it makes me reel. And in my film class we watched a dry movie not about anything, just of Hitler yelling and old men bitching and I'm supposed to care about these people? I just. Don't. understand. Anyway it's not grand at the end of a long day.
The posts here have been unusual of late. Unusual in their usual-ish-ness. That should change next week, when I'm finally in the city again. My cabin fever is getting something vicious!
I say you know nothing of manhood unless you've seen Bambi. Speaking of manhood, I'm working on a piece about how we discourage introspection in young man. It's a drastic problem. Drastic. I worry about raising a son in this atmosphere. I could go on but it's for a video. See the youtube channel if you have not: youtube.com/shethewriter
Thanks for reading! :) spread smiles